Of Demons and Fake Psychics
by Deranged Black Kitten
Summary: They say power corrupts and absolute power corrupts absolutely. Too bad Shawn never got the memo. AU/Shassi
1. Chapter 1

_Hello everyone. I've already posted this over on LJ under my SpriteWolf account and I decided to post it here too. This story is an AU. Also, since I am unaware of any official names for certain family members of the Psych characters (namely Carlton's dad) I will be making up names. _

_This fic is shassi slash and I'm rating it T because although there's some making out and suggestive stuff, there's nothing hardcore. (I couldn't write something hardcore if my life depended on it). For anyone who's already read this, I **will** write new chapters for this._

Lawyers: Our client does not own Psych or Supernatural or Charmed. Don't sue her.

* * *

**Location Unknown, 1972**

Almost two years ago I had slept with a demon. I had been sitting on a stool in a bar drowning my sorrows in a scotch when I met her. She was a beautiful piece of work; tall, brunette, with curves in all the right places, and luscious lips that just looked so kissable. Hell, if it wasn't for her red eyes and the reddish tinge she had to her skin, she would have looked completely normal.

How, you may be wondering, did I know she was a demon and not just some wannabe Goth chick? Well, I have what I like to call a demon radar for this sort of thing. Plus, I mumbled 'Christo' as soon as she sat down next to me and she practically fell off of her stool flinching. As soon as she recovered, she just about tried to kill me right then and there, witnesses be damned. She clawed at me, I tossed my drink in her face, and before I knew it, we were on the ground beating the crap out of each other.

After the bouncers managed to pull us apart and we were kicked out of the bar, we reached a temporary truce for the night. We got to talking and in my drunken stupor, I foolishly invited her back to my house. One thing led to another and before the night was over, we had fucked six times. Come morning, she was gone.

It was a tough life to lead, being a cop half the time and a demon hunter the other half. It didn't leave much time for a social life and, well, a man has his needs.

However, no matter how many excuses I made up for myself, I knew that that night had been a mistake.

"What do you want, Gregory?"

I had heard through the grapevine that a drop-dead gorgeous demon with reddish skin and red eyes had been luring both amateur hunters and innocent men off of the streets and into her trap. Their burned bodies were found the next day. That wasn't the reason I sought her out though, the reason I went and found her was because of the child some of the other hunters had seen her carrying around.

"Is it mine?"

She narrowed her eyes at The Colt I had pointed at her head.

"It?" she sneered at me. "Yes, **it **is yours, but you can't have **him.**

"What do you plan to do with him?"

"Raise him you moron," She hissed. "He may only be half a demon, but he will be the greatest demon to ever exist."

And here we were at a stalemate with an innocent child's future at stake. But how innocent could a half-demon child really be? Who's to say he won't grow up with an uncontrollable need to kill? There was no way for me to know, but if I were to judge this child's innocence right here and now when he was only one, I'd be no better than the demon before me.

I was positive of one thing though, I knew if I let her raise the boy, he would be evil for sure. At least with me he'd have a better chance of becoming an upstanding citizen, someone good.

She was killed instantly by a single shot to the head.

I walked over to the crib and stared down at the one-year-old boy who lay there, completely unaware of what just occurred. He had his mother's brunet hair, but he had my cold, blue eyes. I gently picked him up from the crib. Aside from the reddish tinge on his shoulders and going down the center of his back, he looked completely normal.

As I held him, he stared up at me quizzically with icy-blue eyes, and for some reason his little face reminded me of my recently deceased brother. The greatest hunter I've ever known. That's when it was decided…

"Carlton Lassiter."

* * *

**Santa Barbara, 1976**

Henry Spencer watched with a smile as his wife, Anne, put their six month old son to bed for the night. Little Shawn was the most energetic newborn Henry's ever known, but after many months of sleepless nights, he was finally making it through the night without any incidents. Well, most of the time. Henry and Anne couldn't be happier at the thought that both they and their son were finally getting a good night's rest.

Anne gently tucked the blue blanket around her son and spun the Hawaiian themed mobile hanging over the crib. Leaving his wife to finish putting Shawn to bed, Henry went into the kitchen to fix them something to eat. He had just been in the process of putting the chicken in the oven when he heard Anne scream.

With his heart pounding, Henry raced to his son's room where he heard her scream. What could have happened to make Anne scream like that? Was it an intruder? Was something wrong with Shawn?

He stopped in the doorway of the room and looked around, but nothing appeared to be out of place. Anne wasn't even in the room, and for a moment Henry wondered if he had misheard the location of the scream. Still, Henry walked into the room, wanting to check on Shawn real quick before he searched the other rooms for his wife.

Henry looked down into the crib to see Shawn awake but well and staring up at the ceiling with mossy brown eyes.

"Henry…"

The whisper drew his own gaze up to the ceiling, and the sight above him gasping in shock.

"Anne!"

There was his wife, pinned to the ceiling and bleeding from her stomach. It wasn't possible, it just couldn't be real. Yet, staring up at the ceiling, he couldn't deny what he saw.

And then she burst into flames.

Shawn immediately started crying, and Henry was faced with a decision he wasn't sure he could make. The choice between saving his son, or trying to save his wife. There would be no chance of survival for Anne if he took Shawn outside and away from the flames, but if he tried to save Anne first, there was a chance Shawn could be hurt if he wasn't quick enough. He didn't know what to do.

"Anne!"

The flames grew and the heat rose to unbearable heights in the room. As much as Henry didn't want to have to choose, he knew that Anne would want him to choose Shawn over her. So with a heavy heart and tears in his eyes, he quickly reached into the crib and grabbed the crying child.

He raced out of that house as fast as he could. Making it out the door and onto his front lawn, he paused and looked back just in time to see a massive ball of fire explode out of the window of what was once his son's room.

Henry stood there, stunned, and watched as his house went up in flames. Anne was gone. Everything he owned was gone. The only thing he had left, his only connection to Anne, was his son, and he held onto Shawn like a lifeline. His six month old son would keep him sane; keep him from flying off the deep end.

That night Henry learned of the unexpected things in the world, a new type of danger, and he would do everything in his power to protect his son from these dangers. He would train Shawn so that he would never be caught unaware. However, he would never tell Shawn was truly happened that night; he didn't want to expose him to that.

* * *

**Santa Barbara, 1990**

Carlton Lassiter really looked up to his father. The man single-handedly raised him after rescuing him from his demonic mother. He taught him how to control his demon side and how to be a worthy hunter. After all the different supernatural baddies Gregory killed and the countless criminals he arrested, Carlton believed him to be invincible.

So when Gregory was killed in a hunt by some sort of yellow eyed demon possessing an innocent, one might say that Carlton was a bit… distraught; although that was putting it lightly. No, 'distraught' didn't quite cover the burning rage he felt. To say that he was royally pissed off and had gone on a supernatural-killing rampage would be a bit more accurate.

Carlton's latest lead in this crusade of his led him straight to a place called Santa Barbara. Apparently there had been a good number of killings taking place in an office building that held a bunch of small businesses. No evidence could be found pointing to a killer and the fact that the victims had been both mauled and suffocated without any signs of strangulation led Carlton to suspect spectral foul-play.

A little research on the building turned up some interesting information that a woman had been killed in the building many years back by her boss who was apparently stressed over his failing business. Despite this information though, Carlton wanted to check out the building before he went around digging up and burning bodies.

Once it got dark out and most of the businesses had closed down for the night, Carlton shimmered into the building for a quick look around. He was armed with a gun, a knife, and his EMF meter. He slowly moved from room to room, shimmering into any place that was locked up, but no matter where he went, the EMF reader detected nothing.

Then he heard a pained scream and shot off after the noise like a bullet.

He ended up in a room that looked like a lounge for the different business workers. There was a TV, a couple chairs and couches, two tables, and two vending machines off to one side of the room. One machine held snacks and the other held Poland Springs water. However, the thing in the room that had his complete, undivided attention was the shadowy-humanoid form that was bent over a man on the ground.

A shadowy-humanoid form that was most defiantly **not** a rouge ghost.

A shadow demon, or as they're more commonly known, a shadow person, which is basically a dark form you see passing by out of the corner of your eye. In his haste to get in another kill, Carlton failed to notice the significance of the fact that every murder took place at night. Of course, even if he had noted that, it still would have been a little difficult identifying the killer as a shadow demon since they rarely attack people.

Now that he knew what it was however, he knew exactly how to kill it. First though, he needed to get it off of the man, so Carlton raised his gun and shot the demon in the head. The shot wouldn't kill it, hell, it wouldn't even injure it, but it **would** gain him the demon's attention.

The shadow demon immediately abandoned its target and instead set its red gaze on Carlton who flashed it a cocky smirk. As the demon began to glide towards him, Carlton quickly made his way over to the Poland Springs vending machine and, using the butt of his gun, smashed the glass door of the machine. Shoving the gun into his waste band, he grabbed several bottles of water and used his powers to melt the caps off of them.

The shadow demon must have caught on to what Carlton was doing because it suddenly lunged for him. However, to the demon's shock, Carlton shimmered out at the last second. The demon stumbled a few paces before looking around the room, sensing for Carlton.

He shimmered back in a moment later and the demon's gaze snapped over to him, but before it could do anything, Carlton raced around the room, splashing the water onto the walls, floor, and ceiling of the lounge. The shadow demon seemed to bristle at this turn of events, and Carlton laughed mockingly at it.

One belief about shadow people that surprisingly holds true is that you can keep them away by blessing your room with spring water. So Carlton figured if spring water can keep a shadow demon from getting in, than it can also keep one from getting out.

"Time to finish off the job," he mumbled to himself.

With the ease of an upper-level demon, Carlton summoned a fireball and launched it at the shadow demon. The dark creature shrieked and hissed at the hit and shrunk back when Carlton summoned another fireball. The second fireball hit dead-on like the first, and just as he was summoning a third, the demon melted into the shadows of the room before he could throw it.

Carlton extinguished the fireball just as the man, who had been sitting to the side watching him the whole time, came up behind him. They both stood in the center of the room and looked around warily.

"Is it gone?" the man asked.

"It can't leave," Carlton explained. "It's just hiding."

Suddenly, from behind them, the creature leaped out of the shadows and right onto Carlton. It slammed him against the ground and dug its claws into his chest, tearing down and creating bloody, vertical lines. He cried out against the pain flaring in his chest, and struggled to push the demon off of him. The beast tore at him again and he grit his teeth, attempting to focus of summoning a fireball.

That's when another gun went off, and suddenly the demon wasn't on him anymore but was instead advancing on the man it had first been attacking. Pulling himself to his knees, Carlton summoned a fireball in each hand.

"The best way to get rid of shadows," he muttered, "is with light!"

He swung the two fireballs together and when they collided, they let off a large blast of light that blinded everything and everyone in the room. When the light finally cleared and Carlton's vision returned, all that was left of the shadow demon was a dark smudge on the ground.

With blood running down his chest, Carlton managed a relieved smile before he blacked out…

When he came to and saw that he had no idea where he was, he immediately went into defensive mode. Someone had bandaged his wounds, taken him to their house, and set him up on the couch in their living room. While their intentions seemed good, and it was probably someone he could trust, he didn't plan on sticking around long enough to find out.

He sat up with a wince and struggled to his feet, but he only managed to get about as far as the coffee table before he was frozen by the sound of someone clearing their throat.

"Where do you think you're going?"

He turned around, slowly so as not to aggravate the scratches on his chest, and saw the man he had rescued from the shadow demon standing in the doorway.

He gave the man a cheeky smile and shrugged, "I have a job I got to get to. Don't wanna be late."

"I'd buy that if I didn't know that you haven't had a stable job in your entire life," the man said, unimpressed.

"You don't know me," Carlton said, glaring at man before turning to go.

"But I do know you, Carlton Lassiter," the man said with a smile. "I've known you since you were just a baby."

Carlton twisted around on his feet and gazed at the man suspiciously, "Who are you?"

"The names John Fenich," he said as he took a few slow steps towards Carlton. "I worked with your father for a couple years."

"Oh," Carlton mumbled, his eyes dropping to the ground, staring at John's feet. "Well.. He died… just so you know."

"I heard," John said, nodding solemnly.

"So you worked with him, huh?" Carlton asked, changing the subject. "What sort of thing did you work on with him?"

"I'm not a hunter, if that's what you're wondering," John said. "I did a few supernatural jobs with him, but mostly we worked on the force together."

"So you're a police man."

"Police Chief actually," John said. "Your father's told me a lot of stories about you, Carlton."

"He's never mentioned you before," Carlton said, defensive again. "Why should I believe any of this?"

"When has you father ever really talked about work before?" John countered.

Carlton realized he had a point and relaxed his stance. His dad had been known to hold secrets, or just not feel the need to mention certain aspects of his life to his son. Carlton knew of his father's other life on the police force, but he didn't know any further details on the matter.

"You'd be a fine addition to the force," John said.

"What?" Carlton said, surprised by the statement. He laughed and shook his head, "No, not me. I'm not a big 'rules guy.' Going by the book isn't really my thing."

John sighed and shook his head, "Think for a minute, Carlton. You can't keep up this mindless crusade forever."

"How do you know about that?" Carlton hissed.

"I have my connections, and from what I've heard, you've been fighting ghosts, demons, and any other creature you could get your hands on for the last two months," John snapped. "You're on a downward spiral, Carlton, and it can only lead to death."

"Yeah, well it's my life and I can risk it however I want," Carlton said before turning to leave.

"Do you think your father would want you doing this?" John asked, and Carlton stopped by the front door with his hand on the doorknob. "I'm not asking you to completely give up the life and get a job in a cubicle typing on a computer for a living, I'm just asking that you to go about it a different way, a safer way."

"…as a police man…"

"A police man, a detective, or even in forensics. You have so many options," John said, and as he walked over to Carlton, he pulled something out of his pocket. "Here."

Carlton turned back around to see John holding out a business card. He stared at it for a long moment before he gave in and took the card. It was for the Police Academy.

"Give it some thought, okay?"

With a sigh, he pocketed the card and nodded, "Okay."

As he opened the front door and walked down the steps to the sidewalk, John called after him, "And keep an eye on those scratches! Don't let them get infected."

"Sure thing, **Mom**, jeez," Carlton muttered, rolling his eyes as he shimmered out.

* * *

_Well, that's the end of chapter one. Next chapter we move into the present. _

_Reviews are appreciated.  
_


	2. Chapter 2

_Here's chapter 2 for you all! Enjoy.  
_

Lawyers: Our client does not own Psych or Supernatural or Charmed. Don't sue her.

* * *

**Present Day**

When Carlton first saw Shawn Spencer walk through the door into the interrogation room a year or so back, he noticed something about him that he couldn't quite put his finger on. It was more of a feeling really, one he couldn't exactly understand. It was like some sort of incorporeal thing about Shawn that drew Carlton's attention to the younger man, something that seemed to scream: Look at me! Here I am!

Of course, after interrogating Shawn and witnessing first hand the psychic's fake vision (and he knew it was a fake vision because he's met a few real psychics before and that was not how visions went), Carlton passed off the feeling as simply being a part of Shawn's personality and gave no further thought on the matter.

This brings us to October twenty-first, 2007.

A woman had been found brutally murdered in her house. It was tragic really, just barely a month earlier the woman's two children had drowned in the bathtub. Suicide would have been suspected had the body not been so chopped up.

Pictures were taken, the house was looked over for evidence, and forensics had just barely finished getting the body cleaned up. In fact, Carlton was just about ready to head out with Juliet and get started on all of the paperwork for the case when he noticed the sudden absence of everyone's favorite psychic. Shawn had turned up at the crime scene not too long ago (Gus was absent for once), and Carlton doubted he had left so soon.

"O'Hara," he snapped, turning to his partner. "Did you see where Spencer scurried off to?"

"I saw him go upstairs a few minutes ago," she said, not at all concerned that Shawn may be getting into something he shouldn't be in.

With an annoyed growl, Carlton turned on his heal and stormed up the stairs. The last thing he needed was Shawn screwing around on the case and possibly even destroying evidence.

* * *

When Shawn heard the announcement of the dead woman over his police scanner, he hurried over to the crime scene in hopes of spotting any clues he could use for a vision that would get him put on the case. Unfortunately, due to traffic issues, by the time he got there, forensics had cleaned up the body. Because he couldn't spot anything useful on the first floor, he decided to head up to the second floor and see if he could find anything there.

Having just finished checking the first bedroom which, judging from the décor, most likely belonged to the murdered woman, Shawn was on his way to the next bedroom over when he heard running water. Being the curious person he is, Shawn followed the sound straight to the bathroom.

He cautiously leaned into the bathroom and flipped on the light switch next to the door. That didn't really help much though because the electricity was faulty and the lights kept flickering. Despite this, he was still able to make out the source of the sound. It was the bathtub. Shawn figured someone must have turned on the water and forgotten about it because the tub was nearly full. Not wanting the bathtub to overflow and spill water all over the place, Shawn walked over to it with a sigh and reached down to turn off the faucet.

That's when he felt a sudden drop in the temperature of the room.

Frowning, Shawn turned off the water. He hadn't seen a single air conditioner in the house, and even if he did, he knew they didn't work that fast.

There was a creak of the floorboards from behind him.

Shawn smiled and readied an explanation as to why the bathtub was full for the officer behind him. He turned around and then froze, his smile dropping from his face immediately. It wasn't an officer that stood before him or anyone else from the station for that matter; it was the owner of the house. As in: the woman who had just been murdered. Despite not having seen the body, Shawn knew it was her because not only had he seen pictures of her around the house, but the bloody wounds were also a dead giveaway, and had the mood not been so frighteningly serious, that pun would have been completely intended.

Before Shawn even had a chance to scream '_Ghost!_' the image of the woman flickered out of existence. He relaxed, but only a little, and wondered for a moment if he just had a temporary moment of insanity. Maybe he was just working too hard on cases and needed to take some time off. Perhaps he should go to the station after this and tell the Chief he was going to take a little vacation.

At that moment, an invisible force suddenly took Shawn by surprise and pushed him down into the water of the bathtub. He tried to surface, but the force kept him pinned to the bottom. Flailing his arms, Shawn attempted to grab at whatever was holding him under and push it off, or at least fight back, but try as he might, he couldn't feel anything but water and air. Whatever was pinning him could touch him, but he couldn't touch it.

Realizing that he was dealing with something completely unknown, something he never thought he'd even have to be prepared to face, Shawn began to panic. The porcelain walls of the tub suddenly seemed like the walls of a coffin, and with his frantically waving arms, he could feel fresh air mocking him from not even a foot away.

Shawn twisted and bucked in an attempt to loosen the force and reach the air above. He grabbed hold of the sides of the tub and attempted to pull himself up, but to no avail. His lungs ached and he began to feel a light-headed. With his legs hanging partway out of the tub, he pounded his feet against the wall in hopes of alerting someone, anyone who could help him.

His movements weakened, the pounding against the wall slowed to a stop, and his arms slid down into the water with a small splash. Precious air bubbles leaked out of his lips against his will.

His eyelids drooped…

* * *

When Carlton saw the lights flickering in the hallway, he went on the defensive; his muscles tense and his eyes darting every which-way. All of his senses were open to anything out of the ordinary, and that's when he heard the splashing. He raised an eyebrow in the direction of the noise, wondering what Shawn could have possibly gotten himself into this time.

As he made his way down the hallway, he could hear a pounding noise added to the splashing. He paused in front of the bathroom doorway and only hesitated for a moment (what if Spencer wasn't decent?) before slamming open the door. The lecture he had ready died in his throat as soon as he laid eyes on a struggling Shawn pinned down under the water of the bathtub.

Surprised by Carlton's sudden entrance, the ghost pinning the psychic flickered into view and hissed at him. It was the murder victim, or rather, the murdered mother of the two drowned children. Suddenly Carlton was questioning whether or not it was actually an accident.

Closing the door behind himself, Carlton summoned a fireball and hurled it at the angry specter. She shrieked as it passed through her and evanesced away. Demon fire may not kill it, but it would stun the spirit long enough to rescue Shawn.

Speaking of which, said psychic was no longer moving.

"Shit!" he hissed as he dove down and scooped the younger man up out of the tub.

He lay Shawn out on the floor, right next to the tub, and called his name a few times. He didn't answer, didn't even twitch. He just lay there completely limp, so limp there wasn't even a rise and fall of his chest. He wasn't moving, wasn't breathing, but he was turning blue…

That's when Carlton remembered the CPR lessons he had taken back in the academy.

Tilting the psychic's head back with one hand, he pinched his nose with the other, locked his lips over Shawn's and then breathed out. Two rescue breaths later, he pulled away and started on chest compressions. His eyes were locked on Shawn's face while he worked, searching for any sign of life. Seeing nothing, Carlton once again locked his lips over the psychic's, and as he breathed for Shawn, he himself began to feel breathless. He pulled away with a gasp before placing his hands over Shawn's chest to begin more compressions, but as soon as he did, Shawn started coughing.

Carlton turned him on his side as he coughed to help him expel the water more easily. As soon as Shawn had finished coughing, Carlton leaned over and asked if he was okay.

Shawn stared at him for about a second before answering the question with a scream loud enough to alert every officer in the building that something was wrong on the second floor.

Clapping one hand over the psychic's mouth, Carlton shushed him before saying, "You're okay, your fine."

Shawn stared up at him with wide eyes and shook his head before saying with words that were muffled by Carlton's hand, "No. I saw the dead lady. Her ghost. She tried to drown me."

"No," Carlton said, shaking his own head. "You slipped on the wet floor, knocked yourself out on the wall and fell in the tub."

Shawn seemed like he was about to protest but then stopped to think about just what he was saying. Carlton could practically see the mental conversation going on behind Shawn's eyes. Compared to his story about a ghost attacking him, Carlton's excuse for what happened made a lot more sense.

Carlton could feel Shawn relax beneath him, and his eyes were much calmer than they were a moment before. He removed his hand from Shawn's mouth, and once he did, Shawn asked, "Really?"

"Yeah," Carlton nodded.

Juliet took that moment to burst through the door with her gun drawn and two other officers behind her. She took one look at Shawn and Carlton on the ground, raised an eyebrow, then asked slowly, "You two okay?"

After explaining what had happened, the awkward position the two hadn't even realized they were in made a lot more sense and everyone went back downstairs. However, before anyone could get back to work, Carlton sent everyone back to the station with the excuse that after that little fiasco, they should call it a day. He waited until after his shift to come back to the house and exercise the spirit. Because he couldn't salt and burn the body, he had to use one of his dad's old incantations to get rid of it.

Once the job was done, he sat down on the front steps of the house with a sigh. He hadn't done the hunting thing for several years now and it just felt a little weird getting back into it like that, even if only for one quick job. As he sat there and thought back to some of his previous hunts, part of him wondered why, out of all the different people that were in the house, did the spirit attack Shawn.

"Just back luck, I guess."

* * *

Had it just been that one time, Carlton wouldn't have seen any significance in the fact that the ghost only went after Shawn. He would've passed it off as Shawn being in the wrong place at the wrong time and that the ghost just wasn't given enough time to go after anyone else because he had vanquished it the very same night. The event was behind him and he was free to move on with his life.

Yes, that's exactly what he'd be telling himself had it just been that one time. However, that most certainly was not the case, and not even a month later, Carlton found himself faced with a knife-wielding Shawn who just so happened to be possessed by a demon.

Imagine his surprise when he received a call from the psychic telling him that he was working on a case and that he needed Carlton's input. Now, normally Carlton would have hung up on the younger man, or tell him that he had more important things to do and to stop wasting his time ("and just who gave you my cell number? It was O'Hara, wasn't it?"), but Shawn said it was important. He practically begged Carlton to come by the Psych office, if only for a minute, so Carlton relented because part of him wanted to know just what sort of case would make Shawn beg.

He stopped by during his lunch break and Shawn welcomed him in with a smile that, quite frankly, looked unnatural, almost as if it was forced. Getting straight to the point, Carlton asked about the case and Shawn gestured over to some files on a desk.

When he picked up the files and looked through them, he realized that the case he was looking at had been solved over a month ago. At first he thought that Shawn was trying to start up another closed case, but that didn't make much sense because if he remembered correctly, Shawn himself had solved this case.

Confused and just a little suspicious, Carlton turned back around to face Shawn and ask him what was going on. Before he could get a word out though, he had to dodge the knife aimed at his head.

"Spencer, what the hell?!"

He didn't say a thing, only swung the knife at Carlton again, a malicious smirk on his face. Carlton ducked down and used Shawn's own momentum against himself to push him to the ground. He pulled out his gun and aimed it down at the psychic, but instead of being intimidated, Shawn started laughing.

"Go ahead, shoot me," he said with that smirk that just looked so wrong on his face.

Staring down at the younger man, Carlton knew that while Shawn may act a little crazy at times, he would never pull a stunt like this.

_"Christo."_

He flinched away and his eyes turned black.

"Yup, possessed."

Shawn, or rather the demon wearing Shawn's body, made a grab for the knife he had previously dropped when Carlton pushed him over, but before he even had a chance to try and use it again, Carlton brought down the butt of his gun onto Shawn's head and knocked him out.

After tying Shawn to a chair, Carlton drew up a special type of devil's trap that his father had taught him a while back, one that wouldn't affect him. He dragged Shawn into the center of the devil's trap, sat down in a chair across from him and waited.

It didn't take long for him to come to, and when he did, Carlton growled, "I'm missing lunch because of you."

"I'm sure you'll survive," the demon said with a grin.

"You're right, I will, but you won't," Carlton cheerfully. "Walked right into that one, didn't you?"

The grin disappeared and the demon glared at him.

"Why don't we just cut straight to the questions," Carlton said, his tone deadly serious. "Why'd you pick Spencer to possess?"

"Why not?" the demon countered. "There's just something about him. Something _special._"

"Care to elaborate?"

"No, not really," the demon said with an innocent smile.

"Answer me this then, what reason do you have for possessing Spencer just to try and kill me," he asked. "Seems a little random, don't you think?"

"I don't need to justify myself to _you!_" the demon spat.

"Fine, then we're done here," Carlton said before he stood up and began to recite an exorcism he knew by heart.

The demon shuddered and twisted in the chair, groaning against the power of the ritual. Carlton was already two lines into the exorcism before the demon cried out, "Wait, wait! I'll tell you."

Carlton paused and raised an eyebrow in question.

"I was sent here to get rid of you-"

However, before the demon could get another word out, Shawn's body arched back in the chair, his eyes turning black, and he opened his mouth and screamed up at the ceiling. The demon was expelled from his body through his mouth in the form of a black, toxic-looking cloud. With the demon out, Shawn slumped down in the chair.

Carlton warily watched the black cloud hovering over Shawn with his hand out, ready to summon a fireball at a moments notice. There was no need though because the cloud swooped down and escaped through the floor boards. With the demon gone, Carlton let out a deep breath and relaxed.

So someone or something had hired a demon to kill him. Wasn't that just great? He'd spent the past several years of his life without having to go on a single hunt and suddenly in the past month Santa Barbara became a supernatural hotspot.

_"There's just something about him. Something **special**."_

Something about him… Something that just calls to you. Maybe it wasn't just Shawn's personality he was sensing over a year back.

A groan met his ears and he looked over just in time to lock gazes with a rather exhausted looking Shawn, and as he stood there staring at the younger man, the sight of him sitting there tied to the chair, panting and covered in sweat, actually turned him on a little. He adverted his eyes, embarrassed, and blamed the feeling on his demon half. As much as he hated to admit it and as much as he tried to suppress such feelings, being half demon meant that he sometimes thought like a demon and felt demonic urges. Right now his demon half thought Shawn looked quite yummy.

"Are you gonna untie me?" Shawn rasped.

Moving quickly to his side, Carlton worked at untying the ropes that bound Shawn to the chair. Neither man spoke until every rope was untied and lay innocently on the ground by their feet.

Still seated in the chair, Shawn massaged his sore wrists and, glancing over at Carlton, he asked, "So what's your big excuse this time?"

Carlton knew that he was referring to the ghost attack a few weeks back. Shawn must have put two and two together and realized that they couldn't both be hallucinations brought on by a bump to the head. He may have been able to fool the psychic once, but there was no way he'd buy the same story twice.

Pulling Shawn to his feet, Carlton said, "Come on. Let's go grab a drink and I'll… I'll explain everything."

* * *

Sitting at a bar, nursing a root beer while Shawn downed one shot after another, Carlton gave him the whole 'there is an afterlife' and 'the things that go bump in the night are real' speech. He wasn't exactly sure what reaction to expect from Shawn since the man tended to be unpredictable. Fear or disbelief were the most common reactions, but of course Shawn had to prove once again that he was anything but common, and he pulled this off quite well by believing every word Carlton said.

As if the complete acceptance of the news wasn't amazing enough, the first thing Shawn said once Carlton was done with his spiel was, "You _have_ to teach me how to hunt!"

"What?" he asked, surprised. "No, it's too dangerous."

"Oh, come on, _please! _I've already been attacked twice, shouldn't I know how to properly defend myself if it happens again?" Shawn said.

_'He has a point,'_ Carlton thought while sipping his soda.

"_Please_ teach me!" he pleaded. "Oh wise one, I am your lowly student. Teach me the way of the hunt."

"This isn't one of your psychic games, you know," Carlton lectured. "This is serious, you could get killed if you're not careful."

"Lassi, I know. I was just possessed, remember? You don't have to tell me," Shawn said in a genuinely serious tone.

_'If I don't teach him, something could happen again and I might not be around to save him,' _Carlton thought with a mental sigh.

"Fine," he snapped, obviously not liking his decision one bit.

So Carlton set up a time and place where they would meet each day and go over everything having to do with hunting and the supernatural. They continued on with their regular lives, dealing with cases and criminals, except now they were seeing a lot more of each other to go over hunting lessons.

For the first week and a half, they met at a Starbucks and Carlton would go over all the different supernatural baddies there were out there. He'd talk for about an hour or more over coffee, and would finish up each lesson by giving Shawn something he could read over for later. In truth, Carlton was hoping Shawn would get bored with all the lectures and would drop the idea of becoming a hunter altogether. However, with each lesson Shawn only became more and more enthusiastic about the supernatural world.

Seeing that Shawn wasn't going to be quitting his lessons anytime soon, by the end of the second week, Carlton reluctantly decided to move onto something a bit more hands on. He already knew that Shawn could shoot a gun, having remembered what his old partner, Lucinda, had told him, so he started out with direct hand to hand combat. Surprisingly enough, Shawn was already pretty well-skilled in that field too, and he only did two lessons of that before he moved onto knives.

Using a knife was where Shawn's weakness lay, he didn't have much control and could easily hurt himself if Carlton wasn't there to stop his mistakes before they even happened. It also didn't take much effort on Carlton's part to disarm the psychic. Luckily for Shawn, Carlton had enough control for the both of them, and neither man was harmed in any of their lessons.

"Woah!" Carlton shouted as he grabbed Shawn by both arms and held him in place. "You hold the knife like_ this_." He readjusted the knife as he spoke. "That way if you fall, you don't end up stabbing yourself."

Despite the few close calls, Shawn was a pretty quick learner and both the hunter and the demon in Carlton were impressed by his skill and devotion. However, this was all just precautionary measures in case something came after Shawn again. There was no way Carlton would actually take him on a hunt, but Shawn didn't need to know that. Besides, no matter how quick a learner he was, a month and a half was not nearly enough time to become a skilled hunter.

So when a vampire job came up in Santa Barbara, Carlton mentioned nothing of it to Shawn. He did however have to cancel one of their lessons to go take care of the blood-sucking beast, and when Shawn asked about it, Carlton simply told him that he had too many cases to take care of at the moment.

He tracked the vampire to an old, empty warehouse by the shore. Because it was alone, Carlton guessed that it had been kicked out of its own clan and was trying to start out fresh. It had already killed two people and Carlton wasn't going to let it kill a third.

He shimmered into the warehouse with an axe in hand because contrary to popular belief, to kill a vampire you had to behead it. He found her quite easily and she only had enough time to bare her fangs before he killed her with two swings of his axe. He held the axe in one hand by his side and stared down at her body. It had been easy, too easy.

His gaze traveled around the warehouse, searching for anything out of the ordinary. He wondered if maybe he was just being paranoid. For all he knew, she had been kicked out of her own clan because she was too weak. He couldn't be sure though, he didn't exactly know how a vampire family worked.

Suddenly he was hit over the back of the head with something hard. He twisted around and stumbled back, one hand going to his head and the other tightening around the handle of the axe. Damn it, he knew it had been too easy.

A second vampire. How could he have missed that? Unless maybe this second vampire was actually the first vampire and the one he killed had just recently been turned.

"Already starting up your own little group, huh?" Carlton asked, then said with mock sympathy, "Aw, did I kill your first member?"

In response to that, the vampire grabbed him by the collar and threw him across the room. He hit the side of the wall and fell heavily to the ground, the axe falling from his hand. The vampire stormed over to him, kicked the axe even further out of reach, and then grabbed him by the collar once again. He dragged Carlton to his feet and slammed him up against the wall.

"End of the line for you, _hunter,_" he hissed as his fangs grew and he lowered his head down to Carlton's neck.

Before he could bite down though, the vampire suddenly reared back with a shriek of pain that echoed throughout the warehouse. He released Carlton and took a few steps back, screaming still, and when he did, Carlton could see the gapping axe wound on his back.

Surprised by the sudden turn of events, Carlton looked around and spotted Shawn standing a few feet away from the vampire with the bloody axe in hand. Shawn didn't look at him though, he kept his gaze locked on the vampire who was currently down on one knee hissing.

Taking advantage of the vampire's position, Shawn came down on him with the axe with a type of enthusiasm that Carlton remembered from back when he first started hunting. Blood sprayed everywhere as the axe imbedded itself into undead flesh again and again, and it wasn't long before the vampire was decapitated and permanently dead.

Shawn stood there panting with the axe held loosely in his grip and blood spattered on his face, clothes and hands. He finally looked up from the dead vampire and stared at Carlton with questioning eyes. It was the same stare Carlton recognized on his own face during his first hunt with his father. It was the type of look that seemed to ask: Did I do it right? Did I do well?

The hunter in him was impressed by how well he handled himself on his first hunt, and would have nodded his head and say something like, 'Good job.' However, the demon in him, while impressed and pleased with the kill, was enthralled by the sight of Shawn. The way he stood there with the bloody axe in hand and the flecks of blood painting his face made him look deliciously demonic.

For the first time in years, his demonic side won over control.

He swept over to Shawn in one fluid movement and, placing his hand behind the psychic's head, he murmured, "You were _amazing_." before pulling him forward and pressing his lips against Shawn's. He was worried at first when he felt Shawn tense up and heard the axe drop to the ground, but suddenly he was kissing Carlton right back with as much enthusiasm as he had when killing the vampire.

Carlton wrapped one hand around Shawn's waist and the psychic reciprocated by grasping the back of his neck with both hands. The axe was kicked out of the way and they dropped to the ground. Both were so wrapped up in the moment that they paid no mind to the blood on the ground and the two dead bodies on either side of them.

Carlton didn't want to stop, knowing that if he did, some sliver of logic would reach his mind and ruin the moment. No, he didn't want to think, just act on his instincts and let the demon take control.

Shawn's hands trailed under his shirt and wrapped around his back, smearing small streaks of blood along his flesh the whole way. Carlton trailed slow kisses from his mouth down to his neck. His mind was so spellbound by the feeling of Shawn's body under his, their body heat blending, that the demon got carried away and bit down hard on his neck.

Shawn's breath hitched in his throat and he rasped, "Lassi?"

He stopped, and that damn sliver of logic kicked down the doors of his mind. He pushed himself up from Shawn so that he was leaning over him and as he looked over at a puddle of blood one of his hands was sitting in, he sighed.

"Maybe here's not the best place for this," Shawn said with a smile.

Carlton looked back down at Shawn and eyed the red bite mark on his neck. With his clean hand, he gently brushed his fingers against the mark and as he did, he actually began to feel sympathy pains in his own neck. He pulled his hand away and set it back down on the ground by Shawn's head.

"Sorry."

"Don't be," Shawn said, still smiling. "Do you know how long I've been flirting with you?"

"I thought that was just you being you," Carlton admitted.

"Yours is the only lap I've ever sat on at the station," he pointed out.

Carlton glanced over at the remains of the vampires and said, "We should probably take care of those."

"You're the expert," Shawn said, shrugging.

Carlton got up and then helped Shawn to his feet. They stared down at the bodies for a moment before Carlton pulled out a lighter. Had he been alone in the warehouse, he would have just incinerated them with a fireball, but with Shawn there, well, he didn't feel quite ready to be telling him about his demon half. A lighter would have to do. Thankfully, he had enough experience when it came to fires to keep the two he had just started in control so that it wouldn't burn down the warehouse.

They watched the vampires burn in silence, and then cleaned away any evidence once the fires were out.

"So, about before…" Shawn trailed off, throwing him a nervous glance.

"I think," Carlton said slowly as he turned to Shawn. "Whatever this is between us, we should take it slow. Maybe a good old fashion dinner and a movie?"

Shawn grinned, "Are you asking me out on a date, Carly?"

Carlton grunted before turning to leave.

"Does that stand for 'yes' in hunter-speak?" Shawn asked, laughing as he followed Carlton out of the warehouse.

"I'm taking you up on your offer, Lassi, but I don't know how you're going to top tonight!"

* * *

_That's the end of chapter 2!_


	3. Chapter 3

_Here's chapter three and once again, if people are confused, I'm also known as SpriteWolf. (should prolly put that on my profile..)  
_

Lawyers: Our client does not own Psych or Supernatural or Charmed. Don't sue her.

* * *

**Chapter 3**

Life couldn't be better for Shawn. Carlton stayed true to his word and had taken him out for dinner and a movie, and while the movie wasn't nearly as exciting as his first hunt, he still had a good time with the detective. They decided it'd be best if they kept their relationship a secret for the time being so that it wouldn't interfere with their jobs. So while they kept up the whole ally/rivals façade at work for appearances, they could still be together during their hunting lessons.

Of course, Shawn told Gus right away. Gus was always the exception to the 'secrets' rule. Carlton was okay with it though, as long as Gus kept his mouth shut.

Gus was surprised to say the least. Although it wasn't because of Shawn being bisexual, he already knew that, and it wasn't because Shawn liked Carlton, he already knew that too, it was because Carlton actually liked Shawn back. Gus had always pegged him as being straight. Nonetheless, he supported his friend, but he was a little nervous about what would happen if the two ever broke up.

"He could arrest us, Shawn. I don't know for what, but I'm sure he could find a way," Gus had said. "And imagine how awkward it would be every time we go to the station."

"Gus, relax," Shawn reassured him. "We're not going to break up."

Gus' pessimism aside, life was going good for Shawn. He was even on his way to meet Carlton for a second date, although technically it was their third if you counted the hunt. The last time Carlton had picked Shawn up at his apartment, but due to work hours, they decided to meet each other at the restaurant.

So Shawn was riding his motorcycle down a highway heading to the restaurant. The place was a bit far out, beyond Santa Barbara, but they decided to go there so that they could enjoy their meal in peace without running into anyone they knew. Seeing as it was already pretty late, the sun was going down and the sky was painted a pinkish-red.

'_Beautiful,_' he thought as he occasionally gazed from the road to the sky.

Suddenly he heard a screech of breaks and the car in front of him was swerving in the road in an attempt to miss hitting a deer. His eyes widened. It was too close, they were both going too fast. His bike collided with the passenger's side of the car that was now angled awkwardly in the road. His shoulder clipped the roof as the momentum sent him flying over the car only to come crashing down onto the pavement on the other side. He rolled a little ways before skidding to a stop and for a moment, everything was quiet. The car had stopped moving a ways away and by now the deer was long gone.

Everything hurt. His shoulder was on fire, it was either broken or dislocated. His ribs definitely felt broken, so did an arm and a leg for that matter, and his skin felt as if it has been shredded away by a rusty cheese grater. Luckily he was wearing his helmet, so his head didn't feel too bad, however, his neck was a whole different story.

Shawn lay there trying not to move even a centimeter, and breathed heavily despite how much it hurt to. He just couldn't get enough air. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't catch his breath.

He heard a car door opening and someone shout, "Oh god!"

He paid them no mind though. He still couldn't breath and he was starting to feel a little… woozy. Suddenly someone was next to him and talking to him, but he couldn't quite hear them. They weren't speaking loudly enough, but Shawn was able to pick up on the word 'cellphone.' Now why would they be talking about a cellphone?

It was getting darker…

Breath in. Breath out.

Had the sun already set?

Breath in. Breath out.

He was going to be late for his date…

Breath in. Breath-

Blood gurgled from his throat and dribbled out of his mouth, trailing down his face out through a crack in his helmet. Someone was touching him now and he wanted to push them away because despite how gentle they were trying to be, they were still hurting him. He couldn't move though, he tried but it didn't work; his body just felt too numb. The person kept feeling around his clothes, looking through his pockets, and Shawn wondered for a moment if they were actually robbing him.

The hands paused in their search and instead reached down to press two fingers against his neck, as if feeling for a pulse, and with that small amount of skin-to-skin contact, something strange happened.

Suddenly all of his pain faded away. He could feel his skin grow back and all of his broken bones reset themselves and healed, except it didn't hurt when they did this. Every pulled and strained muscle fixed itself and Shawn even felt an odd feeling inside of him that kind of tickled; later on Shawn would guess that his body was healing his internal injures. He could breath once again.

It was amazing. An absolute miracle!

At the sound of a blood-curdling scream, his eyes snapped open.

It wasn't a miracle, it was a _nightmare._

Wounds that were once his appeared on the woman kneeling next to him. Shawn could even hear the _crack _as her bones broke. With her fingers still on his neck, she stared at him in horror, like he was some sort of monster. Blood dribbled out of her mouth and her eyes glazed over. Horrified, Shawn pulled away from her touch and the woman fell to the ground gasping.

Shawn sat up and shuffled back a few paces until he was on the side of the road. He pulled off his broken helmet and dropped it on the ground. The woman's gasping slowly began to subside.

'_What did I do?_'

Something supernatural was going on. He didn't know what, but he knew who would know.

He pulled out his cellphone that had thankfully been undamaged in the accident, and with another glance at the woman, he dialed Carlton's number.

"Hey Shawn," Carlton answered. "Are you at the restaurant yet?"

He didn't know what to say. He was in a state of shock.

"Shawn?"

Taking a shuddering breath, he finally managed to croak, "I got in an accident."

"Are you alright?" he asked, his voice thick with worry.

"I'm fine," Shawn said, suddenly his tone sounded dead. "I shouldn't be. Carlton, something's wrong. I don't know what…"

"Where are you?" he asked urgently.

Shawn didn't answer though, his attention focused on the woman when he realized she stopped breathing. Her dead eyes were partly open and stared blankly into the sky.

"Oh God," Shawn breathed and suddenly the nights events caught up to him. "Oh God, I killed her!"

"Shawn!"

He had forgotten that he was on the phone, and before he knew it, he was babbling hysterically, "I killed her, but I didn't mean to. First I was hurt, but then she was and I wasn't when I should've been. I didn't mean to, I didn't mean to kill her."

"Where are you?" Carlton snapped.

"I.. I don't know," Shawn said as he curled in a ball on the side of the road with the phone still pressed to his ear. "Between exits eight and nine heading to the restaurant."

"I'm on my way there now," Carlton said. "Stay on the phone with me. Uh… Tell me about your day."

"What am I gonna do?" Shawn said, thinking out loud. "When everyone sees the accident and sees me without a scratch, I'll be hunted down."

"No one's going to hunt you," Carlton assured him. "I'll make sure of it."

"I don't know what to do…" Shawn said quietly.

"Talk to me about something, anything else," Carlton said. "Why do you like pineapples so much."

"They taste good," Shawn said dully.

"Is that the only reason why?"

"I don't know why," Shawn said, frustrated. "They just make me happy."

_Spinning pineapples… Floating about him… A mobile?_

"Shawn!"

"Huh?"

"You stopped talking there for a minute," Carlton said, concerned. "Are you sure you're not hurt?"

"I'm fine."

"Tell me about your visions. When was your first one?" Carlton asked, by now grasping at straws.

So Shawn went off into a big story involving his first psychic vision (a completely made up story, mind you) and Carlton listened as he drove, making occasional comments to show that he was still listening. He finally reached the scene of the accident and pulled off on the side of the road. With his cellphone still in hand, Carlton got out of the car as quickly as he could, but then froze at the sight of the accident.

The motorcycle was completely crushed into the passenger's side of the car, and looking at the two smashed vehicles, he knew there was no way a motorcyclist would survive something like that. Despite the fact that he was still on the phone with Shawn and had just talked to him a moment before, he felt deeply worried for the psychic.

"Shawn!" he called out when his legs remembered how to walk and he searched around the accident sight for his boyfriend.

"Over here!"

He gaze snapped over in the direction of the voice to see Shawn sitting on the side of the road and several feet away from him lay the battered and bruised body of a woman. Remembering what Shawn had said on the phone, he paused next to her long enough to confirm that she was in fact dead before moving on to Shawn.

"Are you _sure _you're okay?" he asked once again as he kneeled down an reached out a comforting hand to Shawn.

However, Shawn would have no touching go on between them, not after what he did to the woman. He jerked back and scrambled to his feet with a cry of, "No! No, don't touch me. Don't touch me, I might hurt you too."

Clearly seeing how distressed Shawn was, Carlton raised his hands reassuringly and took a step back, "Okay, I won't touch you. Calm down, okay? Now explain to me just what happened."

Shawn's gaze flickered to the dead woman before he took a few more steps back and said, "I was driving to the restaurant, and a deer jumped out into the road. She swerved to avoid it and I hit her car."

He paused, and Carlton nodded, "Good, then what happened?"

"I was hurt, really bad, and she came over to check on me," he said. "She checked my pulse, and when she did…" He stopped and looked away from Carlton; taking one more step back, he said shakily, "I didn't hurt anymore, all my injuries were gone, except _she_ had them now. They had all transferred to her."

The whole event stunk of supernatural shenanigans, but what Carlton could figure out was whether Shawn really did transfer his wounds to the woman, or did the woman absorb the wounds from him. He didn't know what to make of the situation, and he knew he wouldn't be able to figure it all out at the moment. He'd need to do some research. Right now though, he needed to take care of the accident scene. Shawn was right about one thing, it would look far too suspicious if he came away from this all without a scratch.

"I killed her."

"No, you didn't," Carlton told him sternly. "Even if you did somehow manage to do that, it was still an accident."

He took a step toward Shawn and Shawn took a step back, shaking his head, "No, I'll hurt you."

Carlton sighed, "Okay, I won't touch you, but I want you to go to my car and lay down in the back before you have an anxiety attack."

"Okay," Shawn whispered as he turned and left for the car.

As soon as Carlton was sure Shawn was laying down and wouldn't be sitting up to see what he was doing, Carlton set to work getting rid of any evidence of Shawn's involvement in the accident. He incinerated the broken helmet before walking over to the bike and melting off the license plate. He left the woman on the road in peace, it would look as if she crawled out of the car herself. He then walked back toward his own car and once he was a safe distance away, he sent a few high powered fireballs at the two crushed vehicles causing a massive explosion that was hot enough to vaporize 'another body' that may have been driving the motorcycle.

Despite the loud noise, Shawn hadn't moved from his position of laying down in the back seat, and when Carlton sat down in the drivers seat, he didn't mention anything about it either. He simply lay there with his eyes closed tight.

"Buckled up?" Carlton asked, glancing back at Shawn to see him nod.

Carlton drove away from the accident, heading back to Santa Barbara, and the only sound in the car was of the phone call he made to report seeing a 'mysterious fire' in the distance between exits eight and nine.

Only when they were back in Santa Barbara and had been driving around for a while did Shawn speak, "Where are we going? This isn't the way to my apartment."

"I'm taking you to the hospital," Carlton explained.

"But I'm fine!"

"I know, but I still want you checked out," he said. "What if something was missed?"

Shawn whined and complained the rest of the ride there, but Carlton did budge on his decision, and it wasn't long before they were pulling into the hospital parking lot. Shawn got out of the car on his own, once again refusing to let Carlton touch him, and paused at the front entrance to look up at the hospital's name.

**Sacred Heart Hospital**

"I've never been here before," Shawn mused.

"I know a doctor here who's dealt with the supernatural before," Carlton explained. "He's the best one to take a look at you right now."

Shawn sat down in the least populated corner of the waiting room while Carlton went to the front desk and talked to some nurse. He folded his arms in front of him protectively while he waited for Carlton to return, all the while keeping an eye on everyone in the waiting room to make sure they didn't get too close.

"_Paging Dr.__ Cox to the lobby front desk, Dr. Cox to the lobby front desk,_" an intercom blared.

Carlton walked over to him a moment later and sat down in the seat next to Shawn. He ignored the way Shawn leaned away from him and instead kept his eyes out for his old acquaintance. It wasn't long before a man with curly reddish hair and an annoyed scowl on his face came storming through the swinging double doors and over to the front desk.

"This better be good, I was watching an important show and Caroline was just about to confess to cheating on Jake," he snapped.

The frightened nurse pointed over at them and the man spun around with a snarl on his face. It disappeared as soon as he saw Carlton.

He sighed before walking over to them and saying, "Carlton, I haven't seen you in a while."

"Yes, and I'm sure you're overjoyed that I'm back," Carlton said with a brief sarcastic smile before his face turned serious and he said, "I'm not here for me though. I need you to look at Shawn."

Carlton looked over at his boyfriend and Perry followed his gaze. He nodded then said, "Come on then, I'll find us an empty room."

Shawn kept his distance as he followed Carlton and the doctor to a room. He was annoyed with Carlton. He didn't want to be at the hospital and he knew he wasn't hurt, but he also knew that Carlton wouldn't budge on the matter. He was stuck, so he might as well cooperate.

They found an empty room and Perry closed the door as soon as they were inside.

Turning to Carlton, Perry asked, "So what's wrong with the kid?"

"I'm not a kid," Shawn said, annoyed as he took a seat on the examination bed.

Ignoring him, Carlton explained, "He got in a car accident and somehow his injuries were transferred into the driver that hit him."

"I can't give you the answer to that," Perry said.

"I know, I just want you to check him out and make sure there isn't anything the transfer missed," Carlton said.

"Alright," Perry nodded as he walked over to Shawn. "Lie down on the bed."

"Why?" Shawn asked suspiciously, having a feeling he knew where this was leading.

"Because, Princess, I need to check you over and feel for any injuries," he said, rolling his eyes.

"What? No! I said no touching," Shawn protested, throwing an accusatory glare at Carlton. "It's not safe."

He slid off the bed and away from the two.

"How else did you think this examination was going to go?" Perry asked incredulously.

"I don't know. An x-ray or some other sort of scan that has no touching involved," Shawn said as he backed away like a frightened animal.

"This would be the quickest way," Perry said irritably. "I feel for any internal injuries, you tell me what hurts, and then I get a scan of the area that hurts."

"You don't get it, I killed that woman!" Shawn yelled. "Who knows how this works! What if I can take any injury I've ever had and give it to you? It's too risky!"

"We'll take that risk, now get back on the bed!" Carlton snapped, stepping forward.

"No!" Shawn cried, shuffling backwards, his breathing picking up speed.

Seeing that his patient was close to hyperventilating, Perry opened the door, stuck his head out and yelled, "Carla get me a sedative!"

A second later, a nurse came in the room with a needle in hand and Shawn bolted for the now open door. Before he could get through though, Perry grabbed hold of him and kept his arms pinned to his side. The nurse readied the needle and just before she stuck him in the arm with it, Perry said, "Not too much, I need him awake."

"No, no, don't touch me!" Shawn hissed, his struggling growing sluggish in Perry's strong grip.

"Thanks, Carla," Dr. Cox said, dismissing her from the room and telling her to close the door behind her.

With the help of Carlton, both he and Perry lay a very drowsy Shawn out on the bed. As a precaution, Perry attached the restraints to the psychic's hands. Carlton winced at the sight, but said nothing against it.

"Okay, let's try this again," Perry said as he slid Shawn's shirt up and started on checking his stomach.

Shawn didn't fight it this time, too drowsy from the drugs. Though he did mumbled the occasional, "No, don't…"

"Tell me if it hurts anywhere," Perry said as he gently pressed down on Shawn's stomach first before moving up to his chest.

"Doesn't hurt," Shawn finally said. "…Nowhere."

As Perry finished checking Shawn over, he began to feel a bit drowsy. He pulled away when his eyes began to droop, and turned to a concerned Carlton who had been hovering around Shawn's bed.

"I've got good news and bad news," he said, shaking his head to clear his muddled thoughts. "The good news is that he's not hurt at all from the crash."

"And the bad news?" Carlton asked.

"The bad news is that Shawn's defiantly the cause for this weird transfer thing," Perry said. "He just transferred some of his fatigue over to me. My guess is that this whole thing is somehow connected to his nervous system. Other than that, I don't know what to tell you."

"Thank you, at least that information gives me some direction to look in," Carlton said gratefully.

"Any time, Carlton, but call the next time you're coming," Perry said.

Carlton nodded before looking back down at Shawn, "How am I going to move him without putting myself to sleep?"

"I can fix that," Perry said while typing something into his pager.

A few moments later, a rather scrawny looking man burst through the door and looked around, but before he could even say anything, Perry snapped, "Nervous Guy, go check that man's pulse for me!"

Confused by the order, but not about to question the angry doctor before him, the scrawny man walked over to Shawn and check his pulse. A moment later he flopped over unconscious.

"Push-over," Perry sneered. "Even Shawny over there managed to stay conscious."

Speaking of which, Shawn tugged at the restraints on his bed and asked, "Is someone gonna unlock me?"

Both Perry and Carlton removed the restraints and Shawn sat up in the bed. He glanced over the side at the unconscious man on the ground and asked, "Is he going to be okay?"

"He'll be fine," Perry said dismissively.

"What are we gonna do?" Shawn asked fearfully as he turned his gaze to Carlton.

"We'll come up with something later," Carlton said reassuringly. "Let's just call it a night for now, okay?"

Shawn nodded and hopped off the bed. After another quick thanks to Perry, they left down the hall. As soon as they were out of sight, Perry called over another younger man with a sharp whistle, "Newbie! You're looking after all my patients while I take a nap."

Shoving all his charts into the bewildered man's arm, Perry Cox left for the on-call room to sleep off the affects of the sedatives.

* * *

Reassured by the fact that he would only transfer injuries he presently had, Shawn calmed down and dropped his 'no touching' rule, something that Carlton was extremely grateful for. They both continued their lives as if nothing out of the ordinary happened, and while Shawn went out motorcycle shopping, Carlton met up with a couple of his demon informants to try and figure out what might be happening to Shawn.

Unfortunately, their luck took a turn for the worst when Shawn had been in the middle of giving one of his extravagant revelation speeches on who the murderer was and the guilty party in question snapped and swung at him with a knife. Not expecting the attack, Shawn failed to disarm or dodge the man, but he did manage to avoid being slashed across the face by holding his arm up in defense.

A second later, Carlton had the attacker subdued and both Juliet and Gus were asking to see the cut on his arm. However, remembering what had been revealed at the hospital, Shawn pressed his injured arm against his stomach and in his own cheerful way refused to let anyone see it or even touch him for that matter. None of the officers or Gus would let the subject go that easily though and insisted that he let them see his arm. Even Carlton who knew of his dirty little secret asked to see his arm.

"It might need stitches," Juliet said.

But Shawn just smiled and laughed off her concern, assuring everyone in the room that he was fine and that it was just a scratch. He didn't need to see a doctor and he was perfectly capable of putting a bandage on his own arm. He smoothly dodged any concerned hand that came his way without looking like he was avoiding being touched and after about ten minutes of this, Carlton put an end to it all by stepping in front of Shawn and saying sternly, "Get in my car, I'm taking you to the hospital."

"I'm not going to the hospital," Shawn hissed, his arm still firmly pressed against his stomach.

"I know, just get in my car," Carlton said under his breath so that only Shawn could hear him.

Shawn glared at Carlton for a moment before huffing, "Fine!"

As he stormed out of the hotel lobby (the hotel manager had been the killer), Carlton turned to his partner asked, "Could you wrap everything up here, O'Hara."

"Sure," she said, nodding.

Carlton gave her a grateful look that was gone before anyone else could notice it before walking out of the hotel after Shawn who was already in the car waiting for him when he got outside. He got in the driver's side, turned on the car and drove away without a word.

Instead of taking Shawn to the hospital though, Carlton took him to his house that he had recently moved into after Juliet's birthday party mishap. Shawn gave him a curious look but followed him inside anyway and took a seat on the living room couch while Carlton disappeared into the bathroom.

He appeared a moment later with an armload of medical supplies and set it down on the coffee table in front of Shawn. Just as Carlton reached for the peroxide and washcloth, Shawn shook his head and said, "No, let me do it."

So with a sigh, Carlton sat in a chair across from Shawn and watched at he wincingly cleaned out his cut. It really wasn't too bad and required only one butterfly bandage as a precaution, but as Carlton watched Shawn clumsily try to wrap his own arm, he decided that he was done with the psychic's stubbornness.

Grabbing the spare bandages off the table, he snapped, "That's it, I've had enough, and there is no way I'm following your whole 'no touching' rule until this thing heals." He reached out to grab Shawn's arm only for him to shrink away. "Dammit Shawn! Stop being a child and let me wrap your arm!"

"No way, I don't have any control over this," Shawn said. "I'll hurt you."

"Then you'll _get_ control," Carlton said.

"What? How?" he asked.

"With practice," Carlton explained. "Starting now." He leaned closer to Shawn and Shawn leaned away. "Try concentrating on keeping the wound to yourself. Picture it on yourself specifically if it helps."

Surprisingly enough, Shawn actually listened and closed his eyes, his brow furrowing in concentration.

"Concentrate on the cut on your arm. Concentrate," he said in a deep tone, as if trying to hypnotize Shawn.

"I'm concentrating," Shawn said, eyes still closed.

"Concentrate," he murmured once again before slowly reaching over to Shawn and placing his hand on Shawn's arm.

He mentally braced himself for the cut, but it never came. Shawn opened his eyes and looked from Carlton's hand to the cut that was still on his arm. A grin spread across his face.

"It worked," he said quietly. "You're touching me and the cut's still on my arm."

"You see," Carlton said with a smile. "All it takes is practice."

Reaching over to the coffee table, Carlton grabbed a small pair of scissors from the first aid kit and with his free hand, grabbed Shawn by the wrist and pricked his finger with the scissors. Shawn hissed and pulled his hand away, shooting Carlton a confused and accusing look.

"Sorry," Carlton said then explained, "It's so we can practice on something small. See if you can give me the cut on your finger, but keep the cut on your arm to yourself."

Shawn nodded in understanding before turning his gaze to the small prick on his finger. He narrowed eyes, concentrating once again, before cautiously reaching out and laying his hand on Carlton's arm. Carlton was completely focused on Shawn, and right when their skin made contact, Shawn's eyes briefly flashed yellow.

Carlton's breath caught in his throat, and for a moment he wondered if it had been a trick of the light, but no, Shawn's eyes defiantly changed to yellow. The very same yellow as the demon who had killed his father all those years back. He hadn't seen it the other times Shawn used his power because he wasn't present for the transfer after the car accident and at the hospital, Shawn's eyes had been closed. It couldn't be a coincident, there had to be some sort of connection. Carlton was so stunned by the sudden turn of events that he didn't even notice the pinprick that had appeared on his hand while the long cut remained on Shawn's arm.

* * *

Their hunting lessons became a time for Shawn to practice his powers. To be safe, they only practiced with paper cuts or pinpricks. It took several long, frustrating lessons before Shawn started to get the hang of his power, and while Shawn was very pleased with his progress, Carlton could only manage a half-hearted, _'Good job.'_ He didn't mean to be unsupportive and really tried to sound impressed, but the sight of Shawn's eyes turning yellow every time he used his power had his mind in shambles.

He knew it wasn't Shawn's fault his eyes changed. Still though, he couldn't help but associate Shawn's yellow eyes with the yellow eyes of the demon who killed his dad. He _hated_ those eyes. They took away the only family he had left, and while the rage had faded over the years, a part of him still wanted to hunt the demon down and send its ass back to hell.

It was ridiculous, he knew, to feel any hostility toward a person simply because of a change in eye color (a change he has yet to mention to Shawn), but as much as he didn't want them to be, the feelings were there. He didn't want to take it out on Shawn though, so instead he childishly cut their training times in half and after driving Shawn back to his apartment (a drive that has lately been spent in silence), he would stop by at a demon bar and try to get any new information he could on the situation.

While Carlton avoided any confrontation of the problem, Shawn was busy trying to figure out why he was suddenly so closed-up. He wasn't a moron, he was quite aware of Carlton's change in behavior, but he just couldn't figure out what the problem was. When Carlton started cutting back their training time, Shawn began to feel worried.

'_Why is he avoiding me?_' he wonder while sitting in the Psych Office one day with his feet propped up on the desk in front of him. '_Is he having second thoughts about our relationship?_'

"Alright, what's wrong?"

Startled, Shawn looked up to see Gus standing in front of him with his arms crossed over his chest. Flashing his friend a carefree smile, Shawn replied, "Nothing's wrong."

Gus rolled his eyes, "Come on, I've been your friend long enough to know when you're in a funk."

"A 'funk' Gus? Do they even use that word anymore?"

"Don't change the subject," Gus said. "It's dating-related problems, isn't it?"

Gus really did know him too well.

"Carlton's just being a little… distant, that's all," Shawn said, shrugging.

"Do you have any idea why?" Gus asked curiously while sitting down in one of the seats place in front of the desk.

"No, not really," Shawn said, thinking back, when he suddenly realized something and said out loud without thinking, "He started to change when we were practicing my-"

He stopped, remembering that Gus was there.

"Practicing your what?" Gus asked, then paled. "This isn't a sex thing, is it? I told you Shawn, it's a need-to-know basis and I _don't_ need to know!"

"Calm down," Shawn said, rolling his eyes. "We haven't even had sex yet."

Gus relaxed and they both sat in a comfortable silence for a moment before Shawn came to a decision.

"Gus, I want to show you something."

Grabbing a piece of paper on the desk, he got up and walked around to Gus. Noticing that Shawn looked a little nervous, Gus raised an eyebrow curiously.

"You're going to think I'm crazy, but I kinda have this _power_," Shawn began.

"You're right, I do think you're crazy," Gus said with a smile.

"Let me show you," Shawn said, and Gus watched as Shawn held up his hand and gave himself a paper cut on his finger. Before Gus could even begin to ask what that was about, Shawn reached over and grabbed his hand. Gus wouldn't have even noticed anything out of the ordinary besides Shawn's strange behavior had Shawn's eyes not flashed yellow.

He blinked his own eyes in disbelief, immediately telling himself that it was a trick of the light. That's when he felt a slight sting on his finger and looked down to see a paper cut on it.

'_I don't remember getting that_,' he thought to himself.

"See," Shawn said, holding up his hand again. A hand that, to Gus' bewilderment, no longer had a paper cut on it.

"No way," Gus breathed.

A grin spread across Shawn's face, "_Way! _I can transfer any injury I have to another person." He hand dropped back down to his side. "Granted, it's kind of a weird power and it's not very useful in the long run, but _still._"

Gus stared at the paper cut in amazement before turning his gaze back to Shawn, "Does Lassiter know about this?"

"Actually, Carlton knew about this sort of stuff before I did," Shawn explained. "It's kind of a long story, but in a nutshell: Ghosts and demons are real and Carlton used to hunt them in the past and now he's teaching me how to hunt them."

Surprisingly enough to both Shawn and Gus, he actually believed what his friend was saying because not only could he tell when Shawn was lying to him, but he also knew that if there really was a supernatural world out there, Shawn would definitely be the one to stumble across it.

"He's not really teaching me how to hunt right now," Shawn continued. "We've sort of been practicing my powers."

"Is that when he started becoming distant?" Gus asked.

Shawn nodded with downcast eyes. He sat down on the floor and leaned against the desk.

"He must think I'm just another supernatural freak," he said with a forced laugh as he stared at the ground.

"I'm sure he doesn't think that," Gus said reassuringly. "Give him some time to adjust. It's probably just different for him, that's all. I know it'd take me a little time to adjust if my girlfriend suddenly had powers and glowing eyes."

"Glowing eyes?" Shawn asked, looking up at his friend in confusion.

"You don't know? Your eyes glowed yellow when you used your power."

"Carlton never mentioned it," Shawn said thoughtfully. "I wonder why."

However, before he could think further on the subject matter, some of what Gus said just hit him and he said, "Hey! Are you saying I'm the girl in the relationship?"

"Uhh…" Gus trailed off, not quite sure how to answer that particular question.

Shawn gave a mock gasp at his hesitation, "Gus, you wound me!"

"Yeah, speaking of wounds, you can take your paper cut back now," Gus said, holding out his hand.

Shawn stared at his hand for a moment before saying, "Taking it back… I never thought of that."

He wasn't even quite sure if he could, but as he looked at the cut on Gus' finger, suddenly he wanted to try. So, concentrating on the cut, he visualized it back on his own hand and after a moment of staring, Shawn grabbed Gus' hand. When he felt the slight sting return to his finger, a grin spread across his face.

"Gus, I can take it back!" he said in excitement as he gazed at Gus' now healed finger. "I can give and take any physical ailment out there! Imagine the possibilities!"

"Don't let it go to your head," Gus sighed.

"Wait a second," Shawn said randomly. "What you said before about your girlfriend having powers, do you have a girlfriend?"

"What?" Gus asked incredulously. "No, that was purely a hypothetical situation."

Shawn's grin transformed into a sly smirk, "You _so _have a girlfriend."

"No I don't, Shawn," he said irritably as he got up from his chair to leave.

"You can't lie to me, Gus. I know you too well," Shawn said as he scrambled to his feet. "Don't deny it, you have a girlfriend!"

Gus walked out the doors of Psych office, not looking back.

"Who is she, Gus?" Shawn called after him before taking chase. "Gus!"

* * *

_End of Chapter notes: Hopefully I kept everyone in-character. Rather then do the whole 'Shawn gets real psychic powers,' I decided to go a different route. I think I saw his power on an old show called Mutant X. Also, I know Sacred Heart and Scrubs probably isn't in Santa Barbara, but it's a fic, so I made it happen._


	4. Chapter 4

_Finally, the last chapter I've written up until now, chapter 4! More will come eventually.  
_

Lawyers: Our client does not own Psych or Supernatural or Charmed. Don't sue her.

* * *

**Chapter 4**

"Damn traps," Carlton growled as he furiously brushed away the dusty substance.

One of his demon informants had told him about a secret storage area belonging to a man who had a connection to the yellow eyed demon. John Win-something, he couldn't quite remember. The place had been fairly easy to find with the information he had been given, and with his ability to shimmer, he had no trouble getting in.

It was filled with combination between weapons, junk, and supernatural paraphernalia, but he wasn't interested in that, he was looking for any possible information on the yellow eyed demon. Unfortunately, in his quest for this knowledge, he wasn't as careful at avoiding the booby-traps as he had hoped and before he knew it, he was covered in angel spores.

Angel spores were a nasty little concoction created by hunters a while back. It was a demon's worst nightmare. The spores infected demons like a virus and disabled all their powers, leaving them sick, defenseless and an easy target to hunt down and kill.

Carlton brushed away the last of the spores, but he knew it was pointless, he was already infected. He wasn't worried about the hunter, John, coming after him because based on the layer of dust coating the storage room, it was quite clear the man hadn't been there in a long time. However, he knew the next couple of days were going to be long and unpleasant.

Having already lost his ability to shimmer, Carlton broke his way through the exit of the storage area and walked back to his car to drive to the station. He figured he might as well grab some case files to look over while he was sick in bed, and while he was there, he could inform Chief Vick that he'd be out for the next couple of days.

"This whole trip was a waste," he grumbled to himself as he drove. "I didn't even find any information on the demon."

By the time he arrived at the station, he could already feel the beginning effects of the spores. He wasn't surprised by this though, he'd been infected once before when he was a teenager. He dad called off their hunting trip to take care of him. Symptoms begin pretty much immediately, but for the first day or so, they're not really that bad, just little annoying things like coughing and headaches, after that though, everything rushes downhill like a rollercoaster.

Because he _never_ asks for time off, Chief Vick gave him the next couple days off without question. So after grabbing a few case files, he headed out, but he only made it to the front doors before he heard called out:

"Lassi!"

He paused by the door long enough for Shawn to catch up before they both headed out together. As Shawn followed him to his car, he commented, "You're leaving pretty early."

"I'm coming down with something," Carlton admitted. "I'll be taking the next few days off."

"Oh," Shawn said, then smiled, "Hey, I told Gus about my transfer thing today and you'll never believe what happened…"

Carlton mentally sighed. He loved Shawn's enthusiasm, really, he did, but at the moment, he didn't want to think about his unusual power and those glowing yellow eyes, not when he could feel his immune system breaking down.

"I'm going to have to cancel our meetings for the next couple of days," Carlton said before taking a moment to cough into his sleeve.

"That's fine," he said nodding. "I could come over and take care of you."

They were at his car by now and as he stopped in front of the driver's side door with his hand on the handle, he turned to Shawn and shook his head.

"That's okay, I'll be fine."

"If you're sure," Shawn said frowning, not looking convinced.

With his free hand, Carlton grabbed Shawn's hand and squeezed it reassuringly as he said, "Yes, I'm sure."

Shawn quickly glanced around the parking lot before looking back at Carlton and, with a strange glint in his eyes, pulled Carlton forward for a nice long kiss. It was a kiss so wonderful that Carlton actually felt a bit better. They pulled apart a moment later.

"Call me if you need anything," Shawn said smiling.

Carlton nodded before getting into his car and Shawn waved as he drove away.

* * *

Shawn knew Carlton was having difficulties accepting his power, but he didn't really blame him because he knew Carlton was trying despite the mild discomfort between them. Still, Shawn wanted to show him the positive side to his power and what better way to do that then to take away Carlton's cold?

'_I'll take care of his cold and he can enjoy his time off,_' Shawn thought as he drove his new bike back to his apartment. '_Of course, knowing him, he'll go right back to work once he realizes he's not sick.'_

When he got back to his apartment, he took some Ibuprofen to deal with a rather annoying headache before plopping down on the couch and turning on the TV. He got through watching two half-hour shows before he realized just how hot it was in his apartment and got up to go check the thermostat.

"_Hello, Shawny._"

He stopped on his way to the thermostat and slowly looked around the room. It didn't sound like anyone he knew. When he spotted the man standing in a corner of the living room, his hands curled into fists, and he wished that he had some sort of weapon on him.

"Who are you?" Shawn growled.

"That's right, you wouldn't remember me, would you?" the man said with a grin as he took a step forward, and as he did, Shawn got a clear view of his yellow eyes.

"You were just a baby when I met you and your mother."

"My mom?" he breathed.

Suddenly they weren't in Shawn's apartment anymore. Instead, they were in a nursery, standing together in a corner of the room while in the center of the room sat a crib with a Hawaiian themed mobile hanging over it and a woman leaning over the crib's side with her arm stretched down into it.

Shawn stepped away from the man and slowly walked over to the woman and the crib. It was his mother. While he doesn't remember ever seeing her in person, he's seen plenty of pictures to know it was her.

"Mom?"

She didn't hear him though, or see him for that matter. She instead kept her attention on the baby in the crib and smiled as she tucked the blanket around him. She walked out of the room a moment later.

"What's going on?" he asked the man with the yellow eyes. "That's me, isn't it?"

"Keep watching, it gets better," the man said.

So Shawn turned back around and watched the scene, and as he did, he saw another man appear in the room in a quick burst of flames like some sort of cheesy magic trick. This man also had yellow eyes, but he didn't see Shawn or the man in the corner. The second yellow-eyed man walked over to the crib and cut a thin line on his wrist. Shawn watched in horror as the second man dripped his own blood into the baby's mouth.

"What the hell is he doing to me?" Shawn snapped.

At this moment, his mom returned to the room, and when she saw the strange man standing over he son's crib, she screamed. The man snapped his yellow gaze over to Shawn's mom, and when he did, she was thrown against the wall. Pinned to the wall, she slowly began to slide up it until she was at the ceiling, but she didn't stop there. Using some form of telekinesis, the man slid his mom onto the ceiling itself until she was positioned directly over the crib. Her stomach began to bleed.

Knowing that the neither the second man nor his mom could hear him, Shawn turned to the man in the corner and yelled, "Stop this! She didn't do anything!"

He simply shrugged and said, "I can't do anything, Shawny. This is just a memory, it has already happened."

The second man flamed out and Shawn watched as his father entered the room and his mother burst into flames. He father grabbed his baby self and ran out of the room, but Shawn stayed behind, calling up to his mom. The flames spread until the entire nursery was enveloped in them, and despite it being just a memory, Shawn could feel the heat of the flames licking at his skin.

Burning him.

Consuming him.

He awoke on the couch with a scream.

* * *

It was almost two in the morning when Gus received a call from his friend. Apparently Shawn took on a cold from Carlton that he couldn't handle and now he wanted Gus to come take care of him.

"Have Lassiter take care of you," Gus growled into the phone, annoyed at being woken up.

"He'll be mad that I took his cold in the first place," Shawn whined. "I don't wanna tell him. _Please Gus! _Don't make me use my friend card."

So Gus drove over to Shawn's apartment despite the fact that Shawn owed him way more friend cards than he had. There wasn't really anything he could do because it was so late, so after checking his friend's temperature (100.5 °F), Gus gave him some NyQuil and sent him to bed.

The next morning, Gus woke to the sound of vomiting coming from the bathroom. With a grimace, Gus dragged himself off the couch, got a glass of water and headed into the bathroom. He knocked lightly against the door frame and received a miserable groan in response.

"Here," he said, holding out the water.

Shawn blindly reached behind himself to grab the water and muttered a quick thanks before rinsing his mouth out with the water and spitting into the toilet. Gus looked away, feeling a little queasy by the whole subject of vomit, and waited until Shawn flushed the toilet.

When he reached down to help his Shawn up, he froze at the sight of his friend. Frankly, Shawn looked terrible. He was pale, sweaty, and his eyes were bloodshot, however, the thing that really worried Gus were the clearly visible veins around Shawn's eyes, veins that were black. Something like that was definitely not normal.

"That's it, I'm taking you to the hospital," Gus said as he grabbed Shawn's hand and pulled him to his feet.

"What?" Shawn said, pulling away. "No, Gus, no hospitals."

He slipped past Gus out the bathroom door and dragged himself back to his bedroom; collapsing on top of his covers and refusing to move.

"Fine," Gus sighed. "I'm calling _someone_ though."

* * *

Carlton couldn't understand it. He had been infected by the angel spores, he was sure of it. Yet a day later he felt perfectly fine, as if he had never even been infected. It didn't make sense. He had felt the symptoms coming on, but then they disappeared. He couldn't have built up an immunity against the spores, it didn't work like that.

His phone rang, and he picked it up with a sigh, "Hello?"

"Detective Lassiter? It's Gus."

"What can I do for you, Gus?" he asked.

"To make a long story short, Shawn can absorb injuries along with transferring them and yesterday he absorbed your cold," Gus explained.

"What?!"

He didn't…

"Yeah, except this isn't your average cold, is it?" Gus said.

It's _Shawn_, of course he did.

"I'm on my way over," Carlton sighed. "Keep an eye on him."

He hung up before anything further could be said and immediately shimmered into a demonic marketplace. He had discovered it a while back when he was undercover. The place was protected by dark magic so that no hunter or human could find it, however, Carlton's demon half allowed him to enter it.

He headed straight for a small shop that sold a variety of different concoctions, including medicine for angel spores. He was really just getting it as a last resort because the fact is, angel spores only effect demons, so the medicine was made for demons. Carlton wasn't sure what effects it might have on a human. The reason why Shawn was even infected at all was because he absorbed an active virus into his body. Had he just breathed it in like Carlton had, nothing would've happened.

After purchasing the medicine, he shimmered back to his house and then drove to Shawn's apartment. When he reached the apartment complex, he raced up the stairs to Shawn's door and only had to knock once before Gus opened the door and pulled him in.

"He's getting worse," Gus said as he led Carlton into Shawn's bedroom.

As soon as they entered the room, Carlton broke away from Gus and sat on the bed next to Shawn's prone form. He truly did look a sight for sore eyes. His cheeks were flushed with fever while the rest of him was as pale as a sheet. His hair was wet with sweat and along with the black veins around his eyes, he also had the veins on his arms and hands and running down his neck.

"I can take it from here, Gus," Carlton sighed. "You can go home now."

"Shouldn't we take him to the hospital?"

"The hospital can't help him," Carlton said. "I've been sick with this before. All we can do is wait it out."

"Are you sure?" Gus asked.

"Yes," Carlton said. "I'll take care of him, don't worry."

With one last unsure glance at both Carlton and Shawn, Gus left, but not before saying, "Call me if there are any changes."

'_We're going to have a little talk about how you use your powers when this is all over,_' Carlton thought with a sigh as he turned back to Shawn. He rested a hand on the psychic's shoulder and gently shook him awake, "Shawn."

"Carlton?" he asked groggily as his eyes slid open. "What are you doing here?"

"Gus called me."

"Of course he did," Shawn murmured, but judging from the small smile on his face, he wasn't mad.

"Have you eaten anything today?" Carlton asked as he pulled the blankets out from under Shawn and covered him up.

"I don't think I can keep anything down," Shawn said queasily.

Carlton knew Shawn should get something on his stomach, so he made soup for the both of them. Kicking off his shoes, he sat down on the bed next to Shawn and passed over a bowl. Shawn looked down at the soup in distaste, but had a few spoonfuls nonetheless.

"So you can take injuries too," Carlton said as he put the two soup bowls on the night stand.

"Yeah," Shawn said as he lay back down in the bed and turned on his side, facing away from Carlton. He had hoped they'd discuss his powers under more positive circumstances, not now when he was so sick because of them. He didn't want Carlton to see them as a bad thing.

Seeing Shawn close up, Carlton changed the subject, "How are you feeling?"

"Tired."

Carlton got up off the bed and Shawn looked over his shoulder to see him walk to the end of the bed. "Where are you going?"

"I'm going to let you get some sleep," Carlton said. "I'll be in the living room if you need me."

Shawn frowned, "You don't have to go."

"I'll just keep you up."

Shawn shook his head, "No you won't… Stay with me?"

Carlton hesitated at the foot of the bed. The hunter in him wanted to stay and watch over Shawn, protect him, but the demon in him saw this as the perfect situation to take advantage of Shawn, saw him as weak and vulnerable.

'_I can control myself,' _Carlton thought as he walked back over to the side of the bed, and as he lay down next to Shawn, he told himself that he was there to protect him and keep an eye on him. He's not taking advantage of him if he's lying on top of the covers.

* * *

He had drifted off next to his boyfriend without meaning to. Something had woken him up and that something shifted under the covers next to him. While they slept, Shawn had pressed up against Carlton with his face resting against the detective's chest while he in return had an arm wrapped around the psychic. Carlton would have laid there and enjoy the quiet moment had Shawn not been radiating heat.

Sitting up in the bed, Carlton shook Shawn by the shoulder, trying to wake him up, but to no avail. Calling out the psychic's name, Carlton lightly smacked Shawn on the face a few times. Finally, Shawn groaned in response and his eyes fluttered open.

"Wha?"

"I need you to sit up," Carlton said as he hopped off the bed and walked around to Shawn's side.

As Shawn slowly slid up in bed and leaned back against the headboard, Carlton grabbed the Ibuprofen and half full glass of water Gus had left on the night stand. He took out two pills for his drowsy boyfriend and handed them to him along with the water. After making sure that Shawn took the medicine, he went into the bathroom and looked through the medicine cabinet for a thermometer.

He came back a moment later with the thermometer in hand and with a quick command of 'open up', Carlton stuck the thermometer under Shawn's tongue. When it beeped, it read 105.3 °F.

"Shit," he hissed before sticking the thermometer into his pocket and saying, "Come on, get up."

As Shawn slowly swung his legs over the side of the bed, Carlton reached down and draped one of Shawn's arms over his shoulder. He pulled Shawn to his feet and they both shuffled toward the bathroom. About halfway there, Shawn stopped and groaned.

"What is it?" Carlton asked.

"I think 'm gonna be-" was the only warning he received before Shawn threw up on Carlton.

The detective grimaced but continued their trek to the bathroom, all the while saying to Shawn, "It's alright, let's just get you to the bathroom."

When they finally reached the bathroom, Carlton sat Shawn down on the floor, leaned up against the wall, before turning on the bathtub facet to fill the tub with lukewarm water. He sat near the tub and ran his hand through the water to make sure it was the right temperature.

Suddenly he heard a thud and looked over to see Shawn on the ground convulsing. Acting quickly, Carlton slid Shawn to the center of the bathroom and tossed the few objects in the room he might hurt himself on out the bathroom door. Then, sitting with his back to the toilet, Carlton waited for the convulsions to stop. A minute later, Shawn fell still on the tiled floor.

"Shawn?" he called as he crept toward his boyfriend.

He was breathing fine.

"Shawn?"

"_Hmmm…?_"

Carlton sighed in relief. He was okay, just exhausted and feverish. Speaking of which, the bath was ready. He turned off the water and very carefully lifted Shawn up and into the lukewarm water. As soon as he did, Shawn's eyes snapped open and he struggled in the water, pushing at Carlton's hands.

"Ghost!" he yelped. "Lemme go! Lemme go!"

"Shawn!" he snapped as he grabbed the psychic's face with both hands. "It's me, Carlton. You're okay, I'm just bringing your fever down."

His struggling stopped and he stared up at Carlton with glazed eyes, "Carly? Wha' happened?"

"You're sick, remember?" Carlton said as he grabbed a nearby washcloth and soaked it in the water. "I'm bringing your fever down."

Shawn watched through half-lidded eyes as Carlton wiped the sweat off his face. He wrinkled up his nose and mumbled, "You smell bad."

Carlton glanced down at the vomit of his shirt and said humorlessly, "I'd imagine so."

Shawn groaned, "Feelin' nauseous."

"Don't you throw up again," Carlton warned as he unbuttoned his shirt and tossed it out the bathroom door. "Better?"

Shawn smiled sleepily as he lifted a wet arm out of the tub and pressed his hand against Carlton's chest with his fingers splayed. "Yeah." He trailed his fingers from the detective's chest over to his shoulder and commented with a frown, "That's a pretty bad sunburn you got there. Does it hurt?"

"No," Carlton muttered and adverted his eyes, unable to look at Shawn as he commented on the red marks he inherited from his mother. He felt as if Shawn was staring at an embarrassing tattoo.

"When do you even have time to suntan?" Shawn asked curiously.

"I find time," he said vaguely as he soaked the washcloth again and wiped down Shawn's face.

Shawn returned his arm to the tub and closed his eyes. He was quiet for a moment, and just as Carlton thought he had fallen asleep, Shawn mumbled with his eyes still closed, "I dreamt of burning pineapples over a crib." He paused for a moment before continuing, "And men with yellow eyes."

Carlton froze and stared at him with wide eyes. Shawn opened his own eyes and looked over at Carlton, not noticing the man's surprised appearance, he asked, "My eyes glow, did you know?"

Carlton lied and shook his head 'no.' Shawn smiled lazily as he said, "Pretty glow. Like suns. You know, _my _eyes glow."

Carlton pulled the thermometer out of his pocket and stuck it under Shawn's tongue. When it beeped, it read: 104.8 °F, and Carlton sighed. They were going to be there for a while.

"You glow too…"

Carlton rested the wet washcloth on his boyfriend's head and said, "That's nice, Shawn."

Shawn closed his eyes again and sighed, "I wish you didn't hate my powers…"

This time he really was asleep and Carlton leaned against the tub with his arms resting over its sides.

'_Looks like I'm gonna have to do some damage control when this is all over.'_

* * *

Shawn's fever eventually went down, so Carlton dried him off, got him in clean clothes, and put him back in bed. Shawn had been barely conscious for the whole thing, so it was a bit of a process, and even though he was pretty positive Shawn would be out of it for a while, Carlton didn't feel comfortable leaving him alone while he shimmered back home to grab a clean shirt. In the end, he just wore one of Shawn's.

It was well past lunch time and closing in on dinner, so Carlton made some soup and sandwiches. When the food was done, he woke Shawn up long enough to get him to eat half a bowl of soup an a couple bites of a sandwich. The psychic was out like a light again shortly after. It was now several hours later and Carlton was faced with yet another problem:

Should he sleep on the couch, or should he sleep in the bed with Shawn?

Granted, they _were_ dating and he had done it earlier that day, but Shawn had asked him to stay. He was sure if Shawn was awake, he would tell Carlton to just get in the bed, but what if he was wrong about that? Sleeping under the covers was different then sleeping on top of the covers. Of course, if he slept on the couch, Shawn might get another fever and he wouldn't know.

He had to take care of him. After all, it was his virus Shawn was sick with.

That settled it then, he would sleep in the bed with Shawn. Besides, it was just sleeping, nothing else. It _could_ be something else… but no! He wouldn't succumb to his demonic urges.

"God, I'm damaged," he muttered as he shut off the lights in the apartment before walking into Shawn's room.

He paused by the side of the bed for a moment before slipping under the covers next to Shawn and before he knew it, he had the younger man protectively wrapped up in his arms.

* * *

He woke up quite suddenly at around five in the morning when he felt Shawn tense up and twist uncomfortably in his arms. He cracked one eye open and wondered for a moment if Shawn was just a restless sleeper. However, the pained moan that escaped his boyfriend's lips said otherwise.

Slowly sliding Shawn out of his arms, Carlton reached over to the nightstand and turned on the lamp. As soon as light flooded the room, Shawn grabbed a fistful of Carlton's shirt and pulled him closer.

"Carlton," he rasped, pausing to groan in pain. "_Hurts_."

Carlton whipped the blankets off of them and when he did, his breath caught in his throat. The black veins had spread throughout Shawn's body. The spores had never been this bad before, not for him or any other demon he's ever met.

'_It's because he's human,_' he thought fearfully. '_His immune system isn't strong enough to fight the spores._'

Letting go of his shirt, Shawn writhed on the bed before curling up into a ball. A few tears escaped his eyes as he let out a pained sob.

"_God, _it hurts," he cried.

Carlton really didn't want to risk using the medicine he got from the demonic marketplace, but he didn't know what else to do. The hospital couldn't cure this, neither could any known human medicine. He didn't want to try the 'wait and see' method either because truthfully he wasn't sure Shawn would last that long. The medicine was his best bet.

Leaning close to Shawn, Carlton whispered, "I'm going to go get some medicine, okay?"

As he got up from the bed, Shawn suddenly reached over and grabbed hold of his wrist. With his grip tightening painfully on Carlton's wrist, Shawn said frantically, "Don't leave me. _Please _don't leave me!"

"I'm not, I'm just going to the kitchen. I'll be right back, I swear," Carlton reassured him.

Shawn stared at him with wild, glassy eyes before dropping his wrist and curling back up into a ball. Carlton raced into the kitchen and grabbed the medicine he had left on the table before running back to Shawn's bedside. He didn't move when Carlton came back in and the detective rested a hand on his shoulder to get his attention.

"I need you to sit up and take this," he said as he uncorked the small bottle.

It took a bit more persuading before Shawn uncurled and sat up in the bed. Carlton held the small bottle to Shawn's lips and he drank the whole thing with one gulp, grimacing at the taste.

"That's disgusting," Shawn said, curling up on the bed again.

"Believe me, I know," Carlton said as he climbed onto the bed, sitting with his back to the headboard, and pulled Shawn partially onto his lap. He pulled the blanket back over them and then wrapped his arms around the tense psychic.

Shawn squirmed briefly before falling still and asked quietly, "What's happening to me?"

"You took on a sickness that runs in my family," Carlton lied. "It doesn't happen very often, but I knew what it was when I got it."

Shawn's breath hitched and he shuddered against another onslaught of pain. He whispered repeatedly, "Take it back. Take it back. I don't want it anymore."

Carlton would have loved nothing more than to take Shawn's pain away, but the spores disabled Shawn's powers just as they would for a demon. Being unable to do anything else, Carlton ran his hand through Shawn's hair soothingly and gently rocked him until they both fell asleep.

When he woke up the next day, it was almost the afternoon, and at some point during the night, Carlton had slid down into a laying position with Shawn laying halfway on top of him. He breathed a sigh of relief when he looked down at his boyfriend. Shawn was breathing easily and most of the black veins had faded. The medicine worked. Not wanting to wake up Shawn and calmed by the fact that he was going to be okay, Carlton went back to sleep.

* * *

Shawn had cold-like symptoms for the rest of the day and the next before the angel spores were completely out of his system. Because Shawn didn't remember much of what he had said while he was feverish, including his little comment about his powers in the bathtub, Carlton held off the talk he needed to have with his boyfriend. He would eventually confront Shawn on the issue, but for the moment, he wasn't even quite sure what he would say. He couldn't exactly tell him that his glowing eyes reminded him of the demon who killed father, that would make anyone feel bad. No, he had to come up with a different story that would explain his behavior. In the meantime, Carlton stuck around Shawn's apartment to help him clean up any mess they made over the past couple of days.

Carlton held up the shirt Shawn had thrown up on before deciding it was a lost cause and throwing it into the trash.

"Sorry about that," Shawn said as he put away the now clean dishes.

"It's okay, you were sick," Carlton said before turning to his boyfriend.

"I'm glad you were here with me," Shawn said smiling. "Maybe we can do this again except without all the sickness stuff."

"I'd like that," Carlton said before glancing at his watch. "It's almost lunch time, do you want to go grab something to eat?"

Shawn put the last dish away before closing the cabinet and saying, "Sure. Are you driving or am I?"

"There's no way I'm getting on that motorcycle," Carlton said as he and Shawn pulled on their shoes.

"Hey, don't knock it till you try it," Shawn said before he grabbed his keys and his wallet and following Carlton out the front door.

* * *

_Chapter end notes: I completely made up angel spores.  
_


	5. Chapter 5

Of Demons and Fake Psychics

_I know, I haven't updated in a while, but I finally got around to it. Also, there is some suggestive content in this chapter._

Disclaimer: I don't own any of it. I'm just borrowing certain aspects of Supernatural and Charmed to blend together with Psych.

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* * *

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**Chapter Five**

Carlton sat on a stool, leaning against the bar top while he waited for his drink. It was another busy night a PoD Pub, a popular demon hangout spot that had enough repelling dark magic surrounding it to conceal it from the prying eyes of hunters and humans alike. Were such a person to come across the PoD Pub, they may wonder about its name, but would find no interest in entering the place.

PoD. It was, in a way, an inside joke.

Prince of Darkness. Prince of Demons. Prince of Devils.

Simply put, it was Lucifer's Pub.

The overly-tattooed bartender with red eyes and ram's horns coming out of his head set Carlton's drink down before him. The bartender's appearance as well as the appearance of most of the pub's patrons didn't surprise Carlton in the least. At PoD Pub, you were free to be your true self, not that Carlton actually had a second demonic form.

Thanking the Bartender with a nod, Carlton sipped at his soda while carefully scanning the crowd in the pub without it looking like he was watching everyone. He set his soda down with a mental sigh. There'd be no alcohol for him tonight. He needed to keep a level head for when his contact showed up, _if_ he showed up.

He had another lead on the Yellow Eyed Demon from someone on the inside and after a few carefully exchanged messages, his newest contact finally agreed to meet up with him in person at the popular PoD Pub. It was well past midnight and he was already on his second glass of soda when the man showed up. An older, vampiric contact of his from back before he joined the police academy slid up next to him and alerted him of the mole's presence.

"Thanks Lenore," he said, nodding at her before setting his drink down and making his way across the bar toward the man Lenore had pointed out.

"Grell?" Carlton asked, eyeing the greasy looking low-level demon dressed in a trench coat that hid most of his features.

"Coal?" the man asked, giving Carlton a look just as suspicious as his own.

Among demons, in situations like this, only a moron would use their real name.

Carlton nodded at the demon, "You have some information for me?"

"Yes, but let's talk some place quieter," Grell said, standing up.

Slapping a hand on the demon's shoulder, Carlton shimmered them both out of the bar.

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* * *

.

Something was going on with Carlton and Shawn intended to find out what. The detective had been noticeably distracted by something for a while now, frequently going MIA at odd hours of the night; Not that Shawn was stalking him or anything, Carlton just wasn't answering his cellphone or wasn't home on his nights off when Shawn came over to see him. Along with all of that, although his attitude had improved since those days when Shawn was sick with that strange virus, Carlton still didn't seem completely comfortable with Shawn's powers.

'_I wonder if he's working on a hunt,_' Shawn thought, standing before the bar he had tracked the detective down to.

It wasn't a very nice looking bar and it kind of blended into the background. Shawn probably wouldn't have even noticed it if he hadn't seen Carlton go in. The name was a little odd too. PoD Pub. What did that even mean? Pod, as in iPod, or maybe pea pod? Possibly space pod? It could be an acronym. People ordering Drinks. Puppies on Daisies?

Shawn mentally shook his head and reminded himself that the name wasn't important. He needed to focus on the task at hand. Carlton went into that bar, had been going there for some time now, and Shawn was going to find out why. He'd be stealthy about it though. The detective would never even know he was there.

Entering the bar, Shawn suddenly had second thoughts on his plan. It wasn't so much the fact that every eye turned in his direction as it was the fact that not every set of eyes looking at him were completely human.

In his entire hunting career, which really wasn't that long, Shawn had only ever dealt with vampires (there was also possession and that one angry spirit, but that was before he started hunting). Aside from the teeth, vampires looked practically human, so to say that he was a little surprised at the sight of the bar's supernatural patrons would be a _monster_ of an understatement (pun intended). It was one thing to hear a lecture on all the different supernatural baddies and see a few poorly drawn pictures, but it was completely different to see them all together like this face to face.

Some of the eyes looked away, uninterested, and Shawn took that time to scan the bar for Carlton.

'_I could've sworn he went in here,_' he thought in confusion, not seeing the detective anywhere.

Not wanting to stand out anymore than he already was, Shawn moved over to the bar and ordered a drink. The tattooed, goat-like bartender gave him a condescending look before grunting and moving to go fix him a drink. As he waited for his drink, Shawn noticed an attractive woman eyeing him curiously from across the bar. Aside from Shawn himself, she was the most human looking thing in the place. Seeing the dark red liquid in a martini glass, Shawn guess that she was a vampire.

'_Act casual, like you belong here,_' he told himself before throwing her a flirting smile.

She frowned and took a sip of her drink. Her nose wrinkled up slightly at the taste.

'_Odd,_' he thought.

"She don't like you," a male voice rumbled loudly from his side.

Turning away from the vampire, Shawn saw that the voice belonged too some sort of snakeman. The lower half of his body was a large python's tail while the upper half was human, save for a few scattered scales. Shawn thought back to all of his lessons with Carlton, but couldn't remember what the snakeman was called.

The snakeman flicked his forked tongue at Shawn and his lips curled up into a smile.

"Human," the snakeman announced. "with a hint of something else I can't quite put my finger on."

Hands suddenly grabbed Shawn from behind and pulled him away from the bar top and before he even knew what was going on, he was pushed to the floor and several demons surrounded him.

"Now what's a human like you doing in a place like this?" the snakeman asked and the other demons jeered as he slithered into the circle they formed.

"I'm not human. I only _look_ human," Shawn insisted as he got to his feet.

"You're not possessing a body," the snakeman said. "I know what that smells like. No, you're all human."

"With a hint of something else," Shawn reminded him. "That's what makes me not human."

"That something else could be the smell of demons and spirits," a hideous looking worm thing with many eyes gurgled. "He could be a hunter!"

"This place is supposed to be protected from hunters," a shadowy form in a tattered cloak hissed.

"How he got here isn't important," the snakeman said. "What matters is what we're going to do with him."

Suddenly the snakeman's scaly tail wrapped around his ankles, pulling his feet out from under him and hanging him up-side down.

'_Why does this always happen to me when I go into bars like this?_'

"Oh, let me feed off of him," the cloaked form said with a begging hiss, gliding over to Shawn and reaching out with clawed hands.

"No, let me!" another demon cried.

"Relax," the snakeman said in a booming voice as he pulled Shawn out of the cloaked form's reach. "We'll all get a taste."

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* * *

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"The demon you seek is known as Azazel," Grell explained as he paced around the isolated alley not too far from the bar. He wrung his hands and his eyes darted every which-way, as if expecting someone to jump out of the shadows and attack. "He is the one responsible for all of the humans with supernatural abilities."

"You mean there are more of them?" Carlton asked.

"Yes, there are many of them all over the world, though the numbers are dwindling," Grell said.

"What do you mean?" Carlton snapped, his eyes narrowing at the low-level demon.

Shrinking back a few steps, Grell cautiously continued, "He's building up an army, you see. I don't know all of the details, but he seems to be picking off the weak ones."

"An army for what?" Carlton asked, but before Grell could answer, Lenore raced into the alleyway at a speed only possible for a vampire. Startled by her sudden appearance, Grell shimmered away.

"Carl, there's trouble back at the Pub," Lenore said. "A human somehow got in. He has your scent, I thought you might know him."

'_A human?_'

"He ordered something called 'the pineapple drink'," she said with a distasteful frown.

"Dammit, Shawn," he hissed under his breath.

"You have to hurry before they tear him apart," she said; something that was quite literally a possibility.

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* * *

.

Barging into a mysterious pub without any backup or any idea as to what lay inside may not have been his brightest idea, but if he were given the choice again, Shawn _still_ would have gone inside. After all, he had seen Carlton go in, and there was no way he would let the detective face a pack of angry demons by himself.

As Shawn struggled to free himself from the snakeman's scaly bindings, he wondered what had happened to Carlton. He never saw the detective leave the pub and he was worried that the older man had been overwhelmed by the large amount of demons. For all he knew, Carlton could either have been eaten or be laying unconscious in a back room somewhere.

Upon deciding that they would share Shawn, things had quickly escalated from there. No longer up-side down, the snakeman now had him almost completely wrapped up in his large python's tale, slowly squeezing him while the other demons approached to get their fair share. His arms pinned to his sides, Shawn shifted against the scaly tail in hopes of exposing enough of his skin to the tail so that he could pass whatever the other demons did onto the snakeman.

'_Can I even pass injuries between species?_' he wondered.

The hideous worm-thing inched up to him first, its lips pulled back to reveal a mouth full of sharp-looking teeth.

"Come on guys, can't we talk this out?" Shawn couldn't help but say.

The worm demon reared back to strike, but before it could, an explosion of fire erupted near the front entrance, stopping every demon and supernatural beast in its tracks. The flames cleared quickly, effortlessly snuffed out, and in their place stood Shawn's guardian angel. Carlton looked anything but angelic though.

With a crackling ball of fire in each hand and a murderous look on his face, Carlton growled dangerously, "Drop him."

Every single demon, that just minutes ago had been confidently discussing all of the horrible ways that they would feast off of Shawn, seemed to shrink in place and simultaneously took one giant step back, leaving only Shawn and the snakeman.

"Whoa, Coal, no need to get angry," the snakeman said, holding his hands up pacifyingly. "If you wanted to go first, all you had to do was ask."

"I said _drop him!_" Carlton snarled, the fire in his hands flaring up.

The tail released him and the snakeman slowly slid backwards and away from Shawn, never letting his eyes leave the enraged half-demon. Shawn stood alone in the center of the bar, all eyes moving between him and Carlton.

Absentmindedly rubbing one hand against his arm, for once in his life, Shawn found himself at a complete loss for words. He was shocked and had no idea what to think of the situation. Carlton had flamed in, a demonic form of transportation, and fire danced around his hands, yet he wasn't burned. Did he have powers like Shawn or was it something else? And why did the demon call him 'Coal'? An alias, he supposed, but just what had Carlton been hiding from him?

The flames extinguished in his boyfriend's hands as he stalked over to Shawn. He grabbed the psychic by the arm and, without giving an explanation, he flamed them both out of the bar.

When the surrounding heat and burning light that made his eyes water disappeared, Shawn saw that they were in Carlton's house. Feeling a bit more confident being in a familiar place, he turned to Carlton and asked, "What the hell was that?"

"I should be asking you the same thing," Carlton said, his eyes narrowing. "Just what were you doing in that bar?"

"I was following you!" Shawn said, throwing his arms up in the air. "You've been distracted and secretive. I was just trying to figure out what's been up with you lately. How was I supposed to know you frequent demon bars?"

"I do _not_ hang out at those places because I want to. If you must know, I've been getting in touch with different contacts to try and figure out just why you suddenly have powers," Carlton snapped.

"_Demon_ contacts," Shawn accused.

"Yes," Carlton said with a roll of his eyes. "It's called networking. Even hunters do it."

"But do they do it with demons?" Shawn said, then frowned. "Wait, that didn't come out right."

"I do what I have to do to get the information I need," Carlton said, his defenses rising. It wasn't even about the demon contacts or the fact that Shawn followed him to the demonic bar in a moment of weak trust. What Carlton was really worried about was that Shawn would only see the supernatural world in black and white and that he wouldn't accept Carlton's demon half.

"Yeah, well then explain to me what the flaming and the fire is all about," Shawn said, crossing his arms over his chest.

"It's not important," Carlton said dismissively as he turned away and walked into his bedroom, hoping that Shawn would get the hint and would either drop the subject or leave.

Shawn wasn't about to give in that easily though and followed the detective into his room, saying, "Of course it's important! Do you have powers too? Why are you trying to hide this from me?"

"I'm not trying to hide anything from you," Carlton denied. "My powers, everything, it's different from your situation. It's just... complicated. "

"Then explain it to me," Shawn said softly, resting a hand on the detective's shoulder.

"I'm not completely... human," he said, dropping down onto the bed with a sigh. He paused for a moment before continuing, "My mother was a demon, I inherited all of my powers from her."

There. It was finally all out in the open between them.

Slouching on the bed, Carlton stared at the floor and waited for some sort of response. The bed sunk down next to him as Shawn sat down.

"So you're half demon?" Shawn asked and Carlton nodded silently. Leaning over so that his side was pressed up against Carlton's, he commented, "You sure don't look like one."

"I have a few red marks on my shoulders and back, but that's about it," Carlton said, sending a half-curious, half-cautious glance in the psychic's direction.

"Half demon, part-time hunter _and_ the head detective," Shawn mused, his lips quirked up into a smile. "At the risk of quoting Paris Hilton, that is _very_ hot."

As Carlton fully turned to Shawn, the psychic leaned in and took away any words he may have had left to say with a kiss. Without breaking the kiss, they kicked off their shoes and slid further onto the bed, wrapped up in each other's arms...

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* * *

.

With their bare backs facing each other, they sat on opposite sides of the bed, not quite willing to meet the other's eyes.

"That has _never_ happened to me before," Shawn finally said, breaking the awkward silence.

"I don't think that's ever happened to anyone before," Carlton commented.

The problem the two men faced was _unexpected_ to say the least. As they had guessed early on in their relationship, Shawn's powers were connected to his nervous system. He was able to give and receive pain, fatigue and sickness (to name a few bodily conditions). In the months that he's had his powers, he had gained a fair amount of control over them. _However_, in moments of extreme emotion, he has been known to occasionally lose control. This was also apparently the case in moments of extreme _passion._

"How is this even fair?" Shawn whined, grabbing his discarded pair of boxers off the bed and tossing them across the room with a pout.

"I guess you just need more practice," Carlton said with a small shrug, sounding unsure. "Or maybe you just need to concentrate more on control."

"How can anyone concentrate on something like that during sex?" Shawn asked incredulously, looking over his shoulder to glare at the detective.

Shawn heard one slightly muffled chuckle, but that was all he needed.

"You think this is funny?" he snapped. "Maybe next time I should be on top. How's that for 'control'?"

"I wasn't laughing! This is a very serious situation," Carlton said with mocking hint in his tone.

"You were too laughing! My life is over and you think this whole situation is _hilarious!_ I should cut you off just for that," Shawn said, crossing his arms stubbornly.

"Oh, don't be bitter," Carlton said as he slid across the covers and wrapped his arms around Shawn.

"Admit it, you enjoyed it," Shawn said, pretending he didn't notice the hands that began massaging his shoulders.

"Of course I enjoyed it," Carlton said. "How could I not enjoy being with you for something so intense and intimate?"

Pulling away from Carlton's hands, Shawn stood up and headed out of the bedroom.

"Where are you going?" Carlton asked.

"I'm going to take a cold shower and when I get out, we're practicing again!" Shawn said, then grumbled under his breath as he walked down the hall to the bathroom, "What's the point of having powers if you can't even keep your own orgasm?"

* * *

_._

_End of chapter five! That's about as hardcore/suggestive as it's going to get. Now for a few notes: Carlton can flame and shimmer, but he prefers to shimmer and only really flames when he's pissed off.  
Lenore is not mine, she is a minor character from a Supernatural episode. Lenore's a good vampire, she doesn't drink human blood, only cows and other animals (which was why she didn't really like her drink). The reason why she knows Carlton as 'Carl' rather than 'Coal' is because they've been contacts for a while and she's a good vampire._

_Review please!_


	6. Chapter 6

_Hi everyone! I'm back with another chapter. This whole chapter is based around the Supernatural episode "All Hell Breaks Loose, part one and two." Of course, lines from the episode aren't gonna be word for word exact, but I'll try my best to make this as accurate as possible._

Disclaimer: I don't own any of it. I'm just borrowing certain aspects of Supernatural and Charmed to blend together with Psych. Also, in the case of this chapter, I do not own Scrubs.

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* * *

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**Chapter Six**

It was early in the morning when the station received the call. Like any workplace, the news spread like wild fire and Carlton hadn't even finished his morning coffee before the information got back to him.

Slapping her hands down on his desk to pull his attention away from a case file, Juliet said, "Psych was broken into. Gus just called it in not too long ago."

Blinking in surprise, Carlton put down his coffee and asked, "Was anyone hurt?"

"No, not that I know of," Juliet said. "Gus found it after the deed was done."

She looked at him carefully, as if judging his mood, then asked, "I still want to go check it out...?"

He could tell that she was concerned, but was trying to mask it and appear professional. As Carlton put the case files away into his desk, he said, "Sure. I'll come with you, see if there's anything they'll need help with."

As they hopped in the car and headed to Psych, Carlton began to feel a little concerned himself, but thankfully Juliet was too distracted to notice. He wondered if Shawn knew about the break-in yet, and if he did, why didn't he call him about it?

'_He's probably sleeping in and doesn't know anything about it yet,_' he thought as he drove.

It wasn't long before they pulled up in front of Psych. There was already a squad car parked in front of the building and Carlton could see Gus giving his statement to an officer by Psych's front entrance. As soon as they parked, Juliet got out of the car and went straight over to Gus. Carlton followed a few paces behind her and scanned the area for a certain psychic, but Shawn was nowhere in sight.

As Juliet began questioning Gus on what happened, Carlton decided to take a look around inside and see what the damage was. The first thing he noticed was that the place had been completely trashed. Everything had been tipped over or thrown about the room, including the furniture.

The second thing he noticed was the faint smell of rotten eggs, a smell that could only be associated with-

His heart dropped into his stomach. Doing a quick scan of the office, he immediately spotted sulfur dusting the furniture and lining the window sill. Pulling out his cell phone, he dialed Shawn's number and with each ring, the bad feeling in his stomach grew. Finally there was a click, and then-

"_The number you have reach has been disconnected or is no longer in service._"

Flipping his phone shut with an annoyed growl, he walked back out of Psych and, interrupting Juliet, he asked, "Guster, have you talked to Spencer about this yet? Maybe he could shine some light on the situation."

"I tried, but his cell phone wasn't working and he wasn't picking up at his apartment," Gus explained.

"When was the last time you saw him?" Carlton asked.

"Here last night actually. I had to leave early and he was going to close up," Gus said before realization dawned on his face. "You don't think anything happened to him, do you?"

"We don't know anything for sure, but we should still check out his apartment," Carlton said with false reassurance.

Except his _did_ know for sure. A demon had visited Psych and it wouldn't have trashed the place for no reason. It finally happened. Ever since he found out about Azazel and the disappearances of the other gifted people, he had been trying to keep Shawn safe. He couldn't watch the psychic 24/7 though and it looked like Azazel finally made his move.

They had taken Shawn and Carlton didn't know where he should even begin looking.

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* * *

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The first thing Shawn was aware of was that it was dark. The second thing he was aware of was that he was no longer in Psych and that his muscles felt stiff from laying on the ground for who knows how long.

'_What happened?_' he wondered. '_How did I get here? For that matter, where is 'here'?_'

Closing his eyes despite the darkness, he thought back to the last thing he remembered. He had been closing up Psych after a slow day of no business when he suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder. He didn't even have time to turn around before everything went black and the smell of sulfur overwhelmed his senses. Then he woke up here, wherever 'here' is.

'_Sulfur. So that means a demon's involved._'

Sitting up with a grunt, he shifted his shoulders around to loosen up his muscles. Dragging himself to his feet, he blindly stumbled around the room he was in, attempting to feel for a way out. It took a little while, but he finally found a door. Rattling the knob, he tried to pull then push his way out before he concluded that the door was either stuck or locked.

Just as he was beginning to wonder if it'd be wise to call out for help, he heard someone distantly on the other side of the door call out curiously, "Hello?"

'_It could be a trick or a trap_' he thought warily as he listened to the calls. '_But still..._'

"Hello!" Shawn called back.

There was a pause before a male voice called back, closer this time, "Hello, is someone there?"

"In here!" Shawn shouted. "I can't get the door to open."

"Stand back, I'll kick it open," the man said, sounding as if he was directly on the other side of the door now.

Shawn stumbled back in the dark before giving the all clear. To his amazement, the man brought the door down with one kick.

"Wow," Shawn couldn't help but say. "Thanks."

"No problem," the man grunted, stepping aside to let Shawn by.

Blinking rapidly as his eyes adjusted to the sudden change from dark to light, Shawn did a quick scan of the run-down, seemingly abandoned town before turning his attention on the two people that stood to his side. The one who kicked down the door was a black man dressed in worn army clothes and standing next to him was a withdrawn, depressed looking woman with dark circles under her eyes, probably due to many sleepless nights.

"I'm Shawn," he greeted, holding out his hand.

The army man stepped forward to briefly shake his hand, saying, "The name's Jake."

The woman kept her arms crossed over her chest, as if hiding her hands, and simply nodded at Shawn as she said, "Lily."

Shawn smiled at her for a moment before turning his gaze back on the town that looked like something out of an old western movie.

"Where are we?" he asked, glancing over his shoulder at the army man.

"We're still trying to figure that out ourselves," Jake said.

"We were looking for someone who might know when we found you," Lily said.

"Come on," Jake said, taking control. "There still might be more people here."

Nodding, Shawn followed the two in their search for other people, calling out 'Hello?' along with them. Aside from their names, he didn't know a thing about Jake and Lily, but there was power in numbers, and in a situation that involved demons, staying with them seemed like his best bet. After a bit more searching, they finally came across a group of three more people. There was a very tall man with long shaggy hair, a short man with short hair and another young woman.

"Hey, you guys alright?" the tall man asked.

"I think so," Jake said.

"I'm Sam," the taller man said, introducing himself.

"I'm Jake."

"Lily," Lily said, a woman of very few words.

"I'm Shawn," he said with a small wave.

Then the questions started again and it appeared that they were all in the same boat. They had been in one place, far away it seemed, when suddenly they woke up here. Lily had been in San Diego and Jake had been in Afghanistan, hence his army clothes.

Sam had answers to offer them all though, or at least a theory. They were all twenty-three, he said, and they all had abilities, but there was just one little problem with that explanation. Shawn wasn't twenty-three, he was twenty-nine, almost thirty. He didn't know any of these people though, didn't know if he could trust them, so he decided to keep that little bit of information to himself, and when everyone was explaining what their power was, he along with Jake remained silent. Remembering all of his training with his dad and Carlton, he knew that his power was the only advantage he had over these people if he needed one. He _hoped_ he didn't need an advantage, but it was better to be safe than sorry.

As for everyone else, Sam and the woman who introduced herself as Ava both got psychic visions. Shawn's lips quirked into a smile and he almost laughed at that. Lily could stop people's hearts just by touching them, something that explained her withdrawn personality. Then there was the man who introduced himself as Andy. In Shawn's opinion, Andy had the coolest power of all. He could pull some sort of Jedi mind trick on people and put thoughts into their heads, make them do what he wanted. He could even project images of anything he wanted into people's minds.

After a brief argument, because everyone was tense, Andy asked the question that was on everyone's mind.

"Who brought us here?"

"It's less of a who and more of a what," Sam said.

"What does that mean?" Ava asked.

A demon, that much Shawn knew, and judging from the fact that they were all gifted, Shawn had a feeling that it was the demon Carlton told him about that night that he had to be rescued from the demon bar. Carlton hadn't told him much about the demon, just that it was responsible for Shawn's power.

"It's a... it's a demon," Sam said after some hesitation, then went on to explain something that Carlton failed to mention to him, the reason _why_ this demon was giving people powers. Apparently they were all just pawns, or rather, soldiers in some sort of demonic war.

Why didn't Carlton tell him about any of this? The older man must have known, he still looked like he was holding a secret even after telling Shawn about the demon who gave him his power. Didn't he think that something like a demonic army recruiter would be important enough for Shawn to know so that he could be better prepared?

"So we're soldiers in a demonic war to bring about the apocalypse?" Jake asked in disbelief.

"When you put it like that..." Sam trailed off.

How was he supposed to prepare himself for something as big as _that_ when all he knew about this demon was its name and that it was responsible for people getting supernatural powers... What was its name again?

"Sam, psychics and spoon bending is one thing, but demons?" Ava said incredulously.

It was a weird name. Something biblical. Az...? Zel?

"Look," Sam said. "I know it sounds crazy, but-"

"Azazel," Shawn said to himself out loud.

Suddenly everyone was looking at him, pausing in their arguments to give him confused or wary looks.

Damn. He hadn't meant to say that out loud.

"Um, I mean, it's true," Shawn said, backing Sam up. "About demons. I've dealt with them a few times in the past."

'_More like 'they've dealt with me.' Aside from the vampires, I haven't had a single successful encounter with anything supernatural,_' Shawn mused.

"You're both crazy," Jake growled.

"What did you say before?" Sam asked, ignoring Jake's criticism for a moment.

"'Demons are real'?" Shawn said, dancing around the subject. Judging from Sam's tone, he wasn't supposed to know them by name.

"Before that," Sam said, frowning.

"Azazel," Shawn said, deciding that avoiding the subject any further would just make them suspicious of him if they weren't already.

"Yes. Who's Azazel?" Sam asked.

Shawn could easily lie about who Azazel was, but really, what was the point? He may not completely trust these people, but they were in the same situation as him and they were just as against Azazel as he was.

"It's the name of the demon responsible for this whole demonic war thing," Shawn said. "...I think. I'm not really sure. It could just be the name of some higher-up lackey." he shrugged.

"Where did you hear this?" Sam asked, and looked to be fighting some sort of internal shock or disbelief.

"Another demon told me," Shawn explained.

Technically a demon told Carlton who told Shawn. Carlton was half-demon though...

"Demons lie," Sam said with a small sigh. "All the time."

Shawn felt like he should protest, but then remembered that Carlton had been lying to him a lot lately. Well, not really lies, just not the full truth. A part of him wondered if this was some sort of genetic thing he should just come to expect from the detective.

'_That's ridiculous. Carly just needs to work harder on telling me the full truth,_' Shawn thought with a frown.

Jake, who apparently wasn't willing to accept Shawn and Sam's claim about demons, said, "I've heard enough. I'm better off on my own. FYI, so are you."

As the group watched him storm away, Shawn wondered if the man realized that it was always the ones who separated themselves from the group who died first in a horror movie. Sighing in frustration, Sam stalked after him and the rest of their little group trailed behind. When they found Jake, the man had been cornered in some sort of small school house by a creepy little girl with clawed hands. Sam wasted no time in dispelling the demon girl by swinging a metal rod through her.

As the girl fled the scene in a cloud of black, Sam said with a huff, "_That_ was a demon."

No more persuasion was needed after that.

"Andy, you with me, or what?" Sam asked as they all stood outside the school house.

"Give me a minute," Andy said. "I'm still working through 'demons are real.'"

Grinning, Shawn patted him on the shoulder and said, "You'll get used to it. You'd think you wouldn't be surprised after the whole 'super powers' thing."

"Wait, I think I know where we are," Sam said suddenly as he examined some sort of old bell that was displayed near the school house.

Walking over to him, Shawn and the rest of their group stayed silent as they waited for an explanation.

"Cold Oak, South Dakota," Sam said. "This place is so haunted that all of its former residents were forced to leave."

"Oh, well that's just fantastic," Shawn said, throwing his arms up in the air.

"Why are we sticking around here then? Let's get the hell outta dodge," Lily said.

"We can't," Sam said. "There's miles of forest all around us."

"It beats staying here with a bunch of demons," Lily said.

"We were brought here for some reason. Do you really think they're gonna let us leave that easily?" Sam asked. "No, we should wait it out here. We just need to find some protection and we'll be fine."

"Protection?" Andy asked.

"Like salt to line the windows and doors," Shawn said.

"Yes," Sam agreed, suddenly looking a lot more grateful that he wasn't the only one there with previous knowledge on demons. "Iron and silver too. Any kind of weapon we can find."

With everyone feeling a bit more determined and confidant now that they had a game plan, they went from house to house in the old ghost town to find whatever they could that would help them. It wasn't until the third house they searched, after Andy found two big bags of salt, that they realized that Lily was missing from their group. She had gone off on her own despite their warnings and their decision to stick together. It was really no surprise to Shawn when they found her body hanging by a rope from the small town's squeaky windmill. It then became apparent to them all that being chosen by this demon was no reward.

Maybe Lily was killed because she tried to leave, or maybe there was something else going on. Either way, after calming Ava down from her hysterical freak-out over Lily's death, they decided to make the house they found the salt in their home base so they could set up and prepare for the next attack that was bound to come soon.

While Jake went to go cut Lily's body down, Ava decided to go distract herself with lining the doors and windows with Salt. Shawn was about to go help her when he couldn't help but overhear Sam and Andy's conversation about his power to project images into another's mind. They wanted to try it long distance and see if they could get a message to someone named Dean.

"Wait, you could do that?" Shawn asked, not really caring that he was jumping in to their conversation.

"I've never tried anything like it before," Andy admitted. "I'm not sure if it'll work."

"But it's worth a try," Shawn said. "Could you contact someone for me? He knows more about the supernatural than I do and he's close to South Dakota. He could probably get here pretty quick."

Okay, so the South Dakota thing was a lie, but he didn't really want to explain the whole half-demon with shimmering powers thing until later.

"Is he a hunter?" Sam asked. "I don't want to drag anymore innocent people into this."

"Oh, believe me, he is anything but innocent," Shawn said, waggling his eyebrows. "But yes, he's a hunter."

"Having another hunter coming to help _would_ put the odds in our favor," Sam mused before looking over at Andy. "Do you think you can do it?"

"I'll need something from both of you that belong to them," Andy said.

"I have this receipt of his," Sam said, pulling a small slip of paper out of his pocket.

"'D. Hasslehoff'?" Andy asked, quirking an eyebrow at the signature.

"It's his signature," Sam said. "Er, long story..."

"What about you?" Andy asked, looking at Shawn.

"Um, here," Shawn said, then laughed once before pulling a pair of handcuffs out of his pants pocket. At the looks that Sam and Andy gave him, he said defensively, "He's a detective, okay? It comes with the job, and I was going to give them back... eventually."

"Riiight," Andy said slowly. "I'm just going to pretend.. this isn't awkward at all. Let's try Dean with the receipt first, then the handcuffs."

Closing his eyes, Andy concentrated.

.

* * *

.

Carlton was just about ready to go out of his mind with stress. There was no demonic activity anywhere. Zip, nada, _nothing_. Not even your usual haunts. Even the different demon bars he knew of were closed up. It was like they all just stopped what they were doing to wait for something big they knew was going to happen, and with all of the contacts he had, Carlton couldn't believe _he_ didn't know what that something was.

He was back at work again, using the station's resources to search for anything out of the ordinary. All of his co-workers could sense that he was in a bad mood and decided to steer clear from him for the day. Even Juliet was wary about approaching him.

"Damnit!" he snapped, slamming his hand down next to the computer mouse. He ran into another dead end and he was running out of ideas as to where Shawn could be.

As if things weren't bad enough, pain slammed into his head full force. It came on so strong and so quickly that he almost fell out of his chair. Hunching over in his seat, he pressed his forehead against the desk, pushing the keyboard out of his way at the same time.

"Carlton, are you okay?" came Juliet's concerned voice.

"Just a sudden migraine," he said through gritted teeth.

"Do you want some Tylenol?" she asked.

He growled a yes and she raced off to find the first aid kit. As he waited for her to come back with the medicine, an image suddenly flickered before his closed eyes.

'_What the hell?_'

It was the image of an old rusty looking bell with a tree on it, and before he could even begin to wonder what it meant or why he was seeing it, an image of Shawn quickly followed that. He was standing in some worn-down looking house. Just as quickly as the image of Shawn came, it was replaced with the image of a map of the United States and South Dakota was circled.

"Carlton?"

The images stopped and the pain of the headache was fading away as well. Psychic visions wasn't one of his powers, so he had no idea how that was even possible, but he knew what he saw. Shawn was in South Dakota and that old bell was a significant clue as to where in the state he was.

"Are you okay?" Juliet asked as he sat back up straight.

"I'm actually feeling much better now," Carlton said, taking the Tylenol anyway.

"If you're sure..."

"I'm fine. Get back to work, O'Hara," he said as he turned his attention back to the computer. Pulling the keyboard back over to him, he began typing rapidly, looking up anything strange there was in South Dakota that might have to do with Shawn's whereabouts.

.

* * *

.

"Wake up, Ava's missing."

It wasn't long before they had all possible entrances in the house lined with salt. Night had fallen and after such a long day, they were all tired and decided to sleep in shifts so that there would always be someone awake and alert. It had been Ava and Andy's turn to be look-out when Ava disappeared halfway through.

"I swear, I turned my back for a second and then she was just gone," Andy said, clearly distraught over her disappearance on his watch.

"We'll have to look outside for her," Sam said. "Andy, stay here in case she comes back."

"I'll take the barn and the hotel," Jake said. "You two can split up among the houses."

"Right," Shawn said as he, Jake and Sam left the house to go search for their missing psychic.

"We'll meet back here in ten minutes!" Sam shouted to them before racing off to go check one of the nearby houses.

As Jake left for the barn, Shawn headed to the house across the dirt street. He didn't even have enough time to finish checking the first room of the house before he heard screaming. It wasn't Ava though, it sounded like Andy. Abandoning his search, Shawn raced back across the street and into the house they had all been staying in just moments before. It didn't make sense. How could something get in with all the salt lines?

As he burst into the room he had heard the screaming come from, he saw Ava standing over Andy's bloody form.

Startled by his sudden entrance, she said in a quivering voice, "Shawn, I was just about to call for help."

Tears welled up in her eyes, but Shawn ignored her in favor of checking on Andy.

"Andy?" he asked as he knelt down next to him, his fingers prodding the younger man's neck for a pulse he knew wouldn't be there. It was too late. Andy was long gone.

"It was horrible," Ava said, her quiet weeping growing more and more distraught.

With only candles to light the room, it wasn't very bright, but from his position on the floor, Shawn could clearly make out the salt residue on Ava's fingers. She was the one who broke the salt line and let the demon in, and Shawn knew it wasn't an accident because when he first came into the room, that brief look of fear on her face wasn't the fear of being attacked by the same thing that got Andy, it was the fear of being caught. It was a look he had seen on many people's faces before.

"You broke the salt line," Shawn said, rising to his feet.

"What? No, Shawn, I found him like this," Ava insisted, crocodile tears pouring down her face.

"You let the demon in on purpose," Shawn said. "Don't lie, I'm psychic too, I saw it."

That seemed to be enough for Ava because the crying immediately stopped. Laughing a little, she wiped the tears from her face.

"You caught me, psychic-boy," she said. "Yeah, I broke the salt line, but I didn't just _let_ the demon in, Shawn."

As she spoke, her fingers rose to her head the same way Shawn's did whenever he concentrated, and a black demonic cloud seeped under the window pane and through the broken salt line.

"I _made_ the demon come in," she said, a smile on her face. "I can control them. Maybe you should have thought about that part of your psychic vision before coming in here alone."

"But why are you doing this?" Shawn asked as the black cloud materialized into the demonic little girl from before. "If you can control them, then you can keep them away while we all escape!"

"Shawn, Shawn, Shawn," she tsked. "Azazel doesn't need a bunch of soldiers. He already has his army. He just needs _one_ of us, so it's me or you guys, and I'm gonna have to choose me."

The little demon girl snarled at Shawn, her clawed fingers growing longer. He only had enough time to step back before the demon girl pounced on him, knocking him to the ground and plunging her claws into his chest. Crying out in pain, he tried to fight her off, push her off, _anything_. He even tried to transfer his wounds to her, but it either didn't work on a full-fledged demon or he just couldn't get a good enough grip on her to keep up with each stab and slash. His blood splashed around the room and pooled around him on the floor as his chest was literally torn to pieces.

He... he couldn't keep going.

Couldn't keep up with the pain, with everything.

Heavy eyes slid shut against his will and everything became muted. He couldn't even tell if he was breathing anymore. were his lungs even still intact?

Where was he? What was going on? Everything was numb. He could faintly hear screaming, but it didn't sound like him, unless he counted that one time when he and Gus screamed like girls at the sight of the dead body in the car.

Was he on another case? He couldn't remember starting one, but maybe he did and something happened.

He could hear footsteps... Maybe? Or just a light pounding of... something.. There was murmuring. Someone talking? Quickly at first, but then more calmly. Everything was becoming lighter and brighter until suddenly something touched him.

.

* * *

.

As Shawn's life slowly faded away, Sam arrived on the scene due to Ava's screaming. She once again claimed that she found them like this, but as soon as Sam spotted the break in the salt line, he quickly put the pieces together and figured out that Ava was behind the deaths the whole time. Like any good villain, she ranted about how well she tricked them and how she would be the last soldier standing by the end of the competition. Just as she called her demon back for a third time to finish off Sam, Jake snuck up behind her and snapped her neck.

When she fell to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut, one bare hand fell limply over Shawn's bare arm. Had her neck been snapped just right, she would have died instantly and such skin-to-skin contact would have meant nothing. However, it had not been done as accurately as Jake would have hoped and her heart continued beating while her brain functions gradually slowed to a stop.

In the time it took her to fully die, Shawn's natural survival instincts became the driving force behind his powers and with that small bit of contact with her bare hand, Shawn pushed as much of his fatal injuries onto her as he could before her light went out completely. Had Sam and Jake stayed behind, they would have witnessed the amazing sight of slash wounds appearing on Ava while simultaneously fading away on Shawn.

Although Shawn did not manage to heal himself completely before Ava died, he did manage to fix enough so that he could hang on just a bit longer until help came.

.

* * *

.

Cold Oak, South Dakota.

It was a small town abandoned long ago due to rumors of ghost hauntings. According to the South Dakota Police Department, for the past several months, the bodies of people who died mysterious or brutal deaths had been found near or around the town. When a team had gone into the town to investigate, two officers died and none of the surviving team could explain how. What they could report on was that there were a few more dead bodies found in the town. There has not yet been another attempt to physically investigate the place.

If was his best bet as to where Shawn could be, and if Carlton had to guess, he'd say that all of the bodies recovered from the town were once other gifted people.

Making sure he had his gun on him, Carlton left the station without a word to anybody and as soon as he was in a secluded area, he shimmered to Cold Oak, South Dakota.

Shimmering into the town, he called out to Shawn, but the response he received was not one he was expecting. There was a click of the safety going off on a gun and he found himself faced with an older man holding a rifle. Two fireballs automatically formed into each hand. He kept his hands at his sides, showing that he meant no harm, but that he _was_ ready to defend himself.

"We've about had enough of your kind for today," the older man snapped. "How about you shimmer you ass on out of here."

From behind him, Carlton heard another man pleading with someone. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw one young man holding up the slumped form of another who was bleeding from a wound in his back.

"Sam? Sammy! No. No, no. Oh, god, no."

"I'm not here for any of you," Carlton finally said. "Someone I know was taken here too, now step aside and let me go find him."

Carlton could have easily shimmered out of the man's path or launched a fireball and been done with it, but whenever he dealt with hunters who couldn't see beyond the 'demon label', he could never lower himself to the level they saw him at. He was _not_ a demon. He would not flee when the odds were against him and he would not attack for the sake of violence.

"Let him go, Bobby," the man behind him said. "We have to help Sam."

The man lowered his rifle and Carlton stalked past him, being sure to keep his eyes on the man until he was out of their sight. Breaking into a run, he called out for Shawn again. When he received no answer, he decided to check the house closest to the scene he originally shimmered in on. If the injured man he saw had abilities like Shawn, then maybe they stuck together in a group, and the best place to look would be the building closest to where that man had been injured.

Carlton shimmered to the front porch of the house and walked in through the front door.

"Shawn?" he called out again. "Are you here? Shawn?"

It was the first room down the hall he checked in. It looked like a massacre had occurred. Blood decorated the floor and walls and three bodies lay limp on the ground, one of them being-

"Shawn!" Carlton gasped, rushing to his fallen boyfriend. "Oh god."

His chest was all slashed up as if he had been mauled by a wild animal. The dark circles around his closed eyes stood out against his pale skin and he was still, far too still.

Carlton's eyes burned with unshed tears as he shakily reached out to check for a pulse. Pressing his fingers against Shawn's neck, not only did he feel a faint pulse, he also felt a sharp pain bleed into his own chest as Shawn's power latched on to Carlton's health.

He pulled his hand away with a sigh of relief. Shawn was still alive and Carlton could get him the help he needed. He'd have to be careful about moving him for both their sakes, and he'd have to bring Shawn to a place where the doctors knew how to handle him.

Or at least where one doctor knew how to handle him.

.

* * *

.

Dr. Cox had a long night ahead of him, and he had just barely finished the coffee that would keep him awake for the next few hours when he received an urgent page that demanded he get down to the lobby immediately. That was quickly followed by another page and another page after that, both of which said the same thing as the first because apparently hospital staff couldn't coordinate enough to send him one page that got the message across. Still, he raced down to the lobby as quickly as he could, taking the stairs because they were quicker. When he got there, it was quite the sight to see.

Laying on a gurney was the limp, bloody form of a man who looked like he had been mauled by something that belonged in a zoo. Standing next to the gurney was Carlton Lassiter who was keeping the medical staff away from the man on the gurney, insisting that he see Dr. Cox before they do anything.

"Lassiter, what the hell?" Dr. Cox asked.

"Shawn's been hurt," Carlton said and it was all he needed to say.

Dr. Cox remembered Shawn quite well. After all, who could forget a person who could transfer all of their injuries onto another person just by touching them? Shawn's wounds looked nasty and deep and it wouldn't do for them to be transferred onto an unsuspecting nurse. The kid was fading fast and Dr. Cox needed to gain control of the situation.

Whistling loudly, he shouted, "All right, listen up people! The man on the gurney has a highly contagious skin disease. Any form of skin-to-skin contact will mean infection, but he still needs to be treated. Double up on the rubber gloves everybody and I only want people wearing long sleeves to be working closely on him. Newbie, you're with me."

As two nurses wheeled the gurney down the hall toward the emergency room, being careful to keep their distance from Shawn, Dr. Cox along with his protege doubled up on the gloves themselves while accompanying the man to the emergency room where they would inform the surgeons about the situation. They were so absorbed in their task of making sure the man stayed alive on the way there that they didn't notice the two women standing off to the side as they passed them in the hall.

The older of the two women flicked her hands at the scene as it passed and when she did, everything in the hall froze.

"Hurry is up already. I'm new to this magic thing and I don't know how long this freeze is going to last," the older woman with short blonde hair snapped.

Nodding, the younger woman with long blonde hair raced over to the gurney and, squeezing in between the two doctors and nurses, she hovered her hands over Shawn's wounds. A warm golden glow radiated from her hands and washed over the injured psychic. After a moment, she pulled her hands back.

"There," she said, sounding relieved. "It'll still look the same to the doctors, but it's no longer fatal."

"And you're sure that this isn't breaking one of the many rules you've been telling me about?" the older woman asked.

"I'm sure. He was injured by a demon, so I'm allowed to heal him just as long as I don't expose magic," the younger woman said. Leaning down close to the frozen, unconscious man, she said, "You're going to be just fine, Shawn, and this can be our little secret."

"Quit fooling around, O'Hara. They're about to unfreeze and I need you to take me back to the station before anyone realizes we're gone," the older woman said.

Nodding, Juliet walked back over to the older woman and leaned against the wall the same way she had been before the freeze. The hall unfroze just as she did and the doctors and nurses moved the gurney on down the rest of the hallway and into the operating room, completely oblivious as to what had happened.

Turning to the older woman, Juliet asked, "Chief, can I clock out early today? Gus is going to find out and be down here soon and I want to be there for him."

"Yes, that's fine," Karen Vick said. "Let's get back to the station."

Making sure that no one was watching, the two slipped into a nearby supply closet. Taking Chief Vick by the hand, Juliet orbed them out of the hospital.

.

* * *

.

Shawn was floating in darkness. He didn't really have any perception on time, but he felt like he had been there for a while. He had discovered a while back that there was nothing to do in this place, wherever it was, and he was getting bored pretty quickly. An occasional voice might drift down to him, but not much else would happen aside from that.

He had been waiting in this darkness for quite a while before something finally happened. First, the darkness shuddered, as if there had been some sort of earthquake, and then a chilling, unsettling feeling washed over him in a wave. He had no idea what any of that meant, but he had a feeling that it wasn't a good thing.

Following the unsettling feeling, a pair of glowing yellow eyes appeared in the darkness and along with those eyes came the image of an old man.

The man grinned at him and said, "Hello, Shawn."

While the man didn't look familiar, the yellow eyes stood out in his mind. Thinking hard, Shawn remembered the other man from a past dream who had the very same yellow eyes. Was this the Azazel he heard about?

"Yup, I'm one in the same," Azazel said.

Strange, he didn't remember saying that out loud.

"You don't have to kid, I'm in your mind." he explained.

Oh, well that made a little sense... but not really at the same time.

"Don't hurt your brain there, kid. Thinking is going to be a little hard for you what with all of that morphine they're pumping into your system, so why don't you just listen for now?"

...Okay, he could do that.

"Good boy, now don't worry about me intruding, I won't be here for long, I'm just here to get you caught up on current events."

Ug, he hated news.

"Pay attention, Shawny, this is important. I've lost the battle, I'm afraid to say, but the war is yet to come. That feeling you just got a few minutes back, that was my army escaping from Hell. I'm not going to be around much longer, the stars are not lining up in my favor, which is why I need someone to take over as leader. Little Sammy Winchester isn't going take on the role, I can see that now, but there's still you."

"Go to hell, you crinkly old bastard," Shawn said, feeling satisfied that he was finally able to say something out loud.

Azazel smiled despite the insult.

"You're my wild card, Shawny. I honestly wasn't expecting you to get this far and with the power you have."

"What do you mean?" Shawn asked.

"Your's was the first generation of gifted children I created. Sam's generation came later on. You are in fact the very first child I ever gave the gift to, and you're also the only one that survived from your generation. All of the rest died before they even reached age five, but for some strange reason, you survived. When you didn't come into your powers when you turned twenty-three, I considered my first attempt a failure and moved on to another set of children. Turns out you're just a late bloomer," Azazel said with a laugh.

Shawn still didn't understand. Why would Azazel do this? Why go to all that trouble?

"Ah, and that's the winning question," the demon said with a smile. "You have to understand, Shawn, the world was a different place thousands of years in the past. Lucifer, our dark prince, ruled over this planet after we were cast down from above. It was awesome; kind of like playing that Sims game your kind created, but in real life. Now you're lying to me if you say you've never 'played God' in that game and invited a bunch of virtual people over to your virtual house only to take the doors away and have them start a bunch of fires while still they're trapped inside."

"That was oddly specific," Shawn commented.

"Plus, all those angry spirits coming back to haunt other people was a fun little bonus we weren't expecting, but I digress," Azazel said. "Somewhere along the line, in all that fun, Lucifer suddenly disappeared. Nobody really knows what had happened, but the point is that we lost our upper hand. We became disorganized. Without Lucifer to lead us, nobody could agree on anything, and when God sent some muses down to inspire people to become hunters, that was it for us and our rule over human kind."

"Fascinating," Shawn deadpanned.

"Between you and me, I think He overdid that whole hunter thing, what with the witch trials and all," Azazel said.

"Is there a point to all this?" Shawn asked with an exasperated sigh.

"Be patient, Shawny," Azazel said. "What would be the fun in telling you everything?"

"Seriously, you're just going to leave me hanging like this?" Shawn asked incredulously.

Azazel laughed, "You've been an absolute riot, Shawny, but it's time for me to go. Just remember these two things: It's all about power. Also, 'He giveth and He Taketh away' doesn't just apply to God."

"Thanks. Thats... that's _reeaally_ helpful," Shawn said sarcastically.

Azazel faded from sight, leaving Shawn alone in the darkness... Was it just him, or was the darkness getting lighter?

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* * *

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A few days had passed since Shawn had been rushed to the hospital. The surgery went over fine and thankfully the rubber gloves prevented any supernatural mishaps. All that was left now was for Shawn to wake up.

Carlton stretched uncomfortably in the plastic chair seated by Shawn's hospital bed. His back was starting to ache from sitting so long and the few times he had fallen asleep in the chair. Standing up, he walked around a bit to loosen up his muscles, but he neither left Shawn's room nor took his eyes off the psychic. He was almost afraid Shawn would disappear again if he did.

In the time that he'd been waiting for Shawn to wake up, Carlton had done a lot of thinking. They had been dating for several months now, and although he knew Shawn could take care of himself, the fact that he was clearly a target for anything supernatural really worried Carlton. What if something happened again because Shawn was alone for the night. The odds are more in a hunter's favor when they stick together, right?

Shawn shifted in his bed with a light groan, finally joining the world of the living.

'_Moment of truth,_' Carlton thought as he sat back down in the chair next to Shawn's bed, waiting for the psychic to become more coherent.

It took a few minutes, but Shawn finally rolled his head over in Carlton's direction, noticed him sitting there, and said, "Hi."

"Hi," Carlton said with a small smile. "Painkillers making things a little fuzzy?"

"Mmm, nice," Shawn said. "How'm I doin'?"

"Well, after I found you in that ghost town, I brought you to Sacred Heart and Dr. Cox made sure you were treated without any mishaps," Carlton explained.

"Tha's nice," Shawn said, blinking away the sleepy glaze in his eyes. "Surgery?"

"Yeah, but everything went fine. You'll probably be out of here in under a week, but you need to take it easy even then. No psychic visions that will tear your stitches."

"Ouch," Shawn said, nodding in agreement.

"So I've been thinking a lot," Carlton began.

Shawn smiled at him, as if he wanted to make a smart comment about that, but instead gave Carlton an encouraging look.

"Things keep happening when you're on your own and... I want you to move in with me," he said.

"Huh?" Shawn said, looking surprised.

"We've been going out for a while now and I thought we'd be ready for the next step, but if you're not then that's completely fine too," Carlton said, tripping over his words.

"No, no," Shawn said, grabbing Carlton's hand to get his attention. "I'd _love_ to move in with you. It just took me a few seconds for my brain to process... words and stuff."

"Oh," Carlton said. "Really? I'm not putting you on the spot or anything?"

"I. Live. With. You," Shawn said slowly. "Okay?"

Carlton smiled.

"Okay."

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_FINALLY DONE! Holy crap, how did this chapter get so freakin' long? I've noticed that every time I finish a long chapter for something, I start to tear up a little bit. Anyway, there are parts in here that you may not get if you haven't seen the 'All Hell Breaks Loose' episodes of Supernatural. I'm not gonna say anything in case some of you want to go check the episodes out, but if you're curious or have any questions about the episode, you can personal message me or ask in a review._

_Hope you're all enjoying this. Review please! _


	7. Chapter 7

_Hey everyone! Back again with another chapter. _

Disclaimer: I don't own any of it. I'm just borrowing certain aspects of Supernatural and Charmed to blend together with Psych.

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**Chapter Seven**

Shawn ended up having to stay in the hospital a little bit longer than a week. While he was stuck there, being forced to rest, Carlton along with Gus moved Shawn's things into the detective's house. Shawn wouldn't have been able to do much heavy lifting anyway, so they decided to get the moving part out of the way before Shawn got out of the hospital and felt he was physically fit to help them when he really wasn't. As it turned out, the two men wouldn't have even needed an extra set of hands because once everything was in boxes, there wasn't that much that needed to be moved since Shawn apparently liked to rent apartments that were already fully furnished.

A little over a week after the Cold Oak demon attack, Shawn was released from the hospital on the orders that he was to rest. That meant taking a break from Psych long enough to give him time to heal. Although he was happy to be living with Carlton, he loathed the fact that he was stuck inside while the detective got to go to work and work on cases.

"Do you _have_ to go in today?" Shawn asked, sitting up slightly in bed as he watched the detective get dressed for the day.

"We go through this every morning. I've already taken enough time off while you were in the hospital, if I take anymore time off, the Chief will start asking questions," Carlton said, rummaging through the dresser drawers for a tie.

"So?" Shawn said. "Our private life isn't any of her business."

"That's just the point. People don't even know _we_ have a private life," Carlton said.

"You could at least come over during your lunch break," Shawn said. "Maybe bring a few case files over for a looksie, hmm?"

"No cases, you're supposed to be taking it easy," Carlton said, giving him a look.

"But 'taking it easy' is _boring_," Shawn whined, pulling the covers over his head stubbornly.

Sighing, Carlton sat down on the edge of the bed next to Shawn and pulled the covers back so that he could see the psychic's face when he said, "I'll come over during lunch and make us something to eat. No case files, but maybe a Sudoku puzzle book. In the meantime, you should rest. Your painkillers are by the bed if you need them."

Sharing a quick kiss, Carlton got up and finished getting ready for work while Shawn drifted back off to sleep. He was out like a light before the front door closed fifteen minutes later.

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Shawn's eyes slid open and he groggily looked at the alarm clock on the nightstand to see that three hours had passed since the last time he woke up. For a moment, he wondered what it was that woke him up. Maybe it was time for his next dose of painkillers?

That's when he heard a faint knocking on the front door.

Both curious and annoyed, he dragged himself out of bed and shuffled through the house toward the front door, wondering who that could possibly be. Peering through the door's peephole, he saw the mailman holding a package.

'_Hm, wonder what Carlton ordered_' Shawn thought as he undid the lock and opened the door.

"Hi, can I help you?" Shawn asked, eyeing the mystery package.

"Yes, I have a package here for one Carlton Lassiter," the man said.

"He's not here, but I can sign for it," Shawn said.

"Great, do you have a pen?" the man asked. "I seem to have misplaced mine."

"Um, sure, hold on a minute," Shawn said, turning to go get a pen. He remembered seeing one on the coffee table when he went to go answer the door.

As Shawn grabbed the pen off the coffee table, behind him, he heard the front door close and the hairs rose on the back of his neck. He quickly twisted around in place only to be cracked upside the head with the package. Stumbling back a few paces, Shawn didn't even have time to recover before the man punched him in the chest right where his stab wounds from the demon were. The breath was knocked out of him and pain flooded through his chest. Coughing, he fell to his knees and wrapped his arms around his chest, curling in on himself for protection.

Hearing the front door open and close again, Shawn dared to look up and saw a second man entering the house.

'_What's going on?_' Shawn wondered, panting heavily.

"Careful about touching him, James," the first man said, staring down at Shawn with a look of disgust. "He can turn his wounds on you if he gets any skin-to-skin contact."

"C-christo," Shawn said, watching the two men carefully.

They were completely unaffected. They didn't shudder or twitch and their eyes didn't turn black. They were just two people doing this completely of their own free will.

"Where's the other one?" the second man known as James asked the first.

"At work, I assume," the first man said. "He'll be back sometime today though. Doesn't want to leave this one alone too long."

"What the hell is going on?" Shawn asked, his voice shaking from the pain.

"Drop the act, demon spawn," the first man growled. "We know all about you and the rest of your kind."

"What? I'm not a demon," Shawn said, straightening up a little. "You're hunters, right? I'm a hunter too. This is all just a big misunderstanding."

"No misunderstanding, kid," James said. "You may not be a demon, but you're still a danger to us all. Both you and your boyfriend."

"No, this is a mistake," Shawn protested, struggling to get to his feet. He didn't want them to have a height advantage over him. "We help people. If you knew anything about us, you'd know that."

"It's only a matter of time before your power corrupts you the same way it did with all the others," James said.

"Carlton's had his power much longer than I have and he's _still_ a good person, a good hunter," Shawn insisted.

"He's a demon! There's no such thing as a good demon!" the first man snarled.

James grabbed the forgotten package off the floor by the door and tore it open, pulling out some rope. Tossing the rope to the first man, he said, "Tie him up, Todd, we need him as leverage for when the other one comes back."

Shawn's eyes widened and his breathing increased as the hunter, Todd, approached him. He couldn't let them tie him up. If he was incapacitated, he couldn't warn Carlton, who would be coming back in just a few hours. These men wanted to kill them and the detective would be walking straight into their trap. Shawn was tired of always having to be rescued, tired of being the stereotypical damsel in distress. Goddamn it, he was a man, he had powers, and it was about time he used them _right._

Pushing his mind past the pain, he forced his body to move, to get to his feet. He lunged at the approaching hunter with his hands outstretched for the man's bare face. With gloved hands, Todd caught him by the wrists before any contact could be made, holding Shawn at bay. While Todd was distracted with holding back his hands, Shawn kneed him in the stomach. The hunter doubled over and Shawn was about to go in for the attack when he was suddenly hit over the head with something hard.

He forgot about James. How were those odds fair?

Stumbling back, he tried to blink away his daze, but was hit over the head again and fell to the floor in a heap. The room spun around him and he could feel something warm trickling down his face. The distorted form of Todd advanced on him, not looking happy at all. Glaring down at Shawn, he raised his foot up before stomping down on the psychic's chest. Shawn coughed as the wind was knocked out of him again and he was sure he felt something tear this time. Warmth bled out of his chest around the man's boot and soaked into his shirt. The hunter rose his foot in the air again, but Shawn faded into unconsciousness before the second hit came.

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It was a little past noon when Carlton managed to pull himself away from his work at the station to go have lunch with Shawn. Driving back to his, no, _their_ home (the concept was still so new to him), he hoped Shawn didn't mind having just soup today; he hadn't had a chance to get any grocery shopping done. Parking next to Shawn's motorcycle, he grabbed his briefcase and headed inside. Opening the front door, the psychic's name died in his throat as he took in the scene before him.

Shawn sat tied up to one of the kitchen chairs with closed eyes and a neutral expression on his face. He had a gash on the side of his head with a bruise to match and blood stained the front of his shirt. A man stood behind him with one hand fisted in the psychic's hair, holding his head up, and in the other hand he held a gun pointed at Shawn's head.

"Step inside and close the door," A second man said from beside him, thumbing the safety off his gun.

Glaring at the man holding Shawn captive, Carlton followed the second man's orders, walking as close to Shawn as he could before he was told to stop. His hands burned at his sides, the fire within roaring to be let loose, but he held himself back.

"What do you want?" Carlton finally asked, never taking his eyes off of Shawn.

"Take a seat," the second man said, gesturing with his gun at another kitchen chair placed close to Shawn, positioned carefully over a devil's trap.

The gravity of the situation suddenly hit Carlton at the sight of the devil's trap. These two men weren't just two random burglars, they were hunters who knew his secret and knew what they were doing.

Willingly stepping into the devil's trap would be just plain stupid and was the last thing he wanted to do, but he couldn't risk an attack when they had Shawn at gunpoint. So, gritting his teeth, Carlton approached the empty chair and, hesitating for just a moment, stepped inside the devil's trap and sat down. Pulling out some extra rope, the second man tied him securely to the chair before taking a few steps back, outside the devil's trap where it was safe.

"So are you two going to tell me just what the hell is going on?" Carlton snarled, taking his eyes off of Shawn just long enough to glare at both men.

"We're just taking care of another job," the man who tied him up said.

"A job?" Carlton asked.

"Cleansing the world of two more unwanted supernatural _scum_," The man next to Shawn smiled wickedly, but lowered the gun from the psychic's head much to Carlton's relief.

"You know how that is. No hard feelings, right?" the second man said with a cheeky smile.

This could only end badly.

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* * *

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His head hurt, that was the first thing Shawn was aware of. The next thing he was aware of was that his chest hurt. It hurt just as much as it did when he woke up in the hospital after his painkillers had worn off. Had he overslept and forgotten to take his medicine again? Still, if that were the case, it shouldn't hurt _that_ much.

_"You're making a big mistake."_

Noise.

That was the next thing he became aware of. Someone was speaking, a few someones in fact, and their bickering did nothing to help his growing headache. Shawn shifted a little because logic told him that if he was waking up, then he was probably laying down on the couch or in bed which would mean there should be a pillow nearby that he could use to hide his head under and block out the noise. As it turned out, logic failed him once again. His hands, they were tied together with... rope. Yes, he was sure of it. His hands were tied behind him with rope, and now that he was becoming a bit more aware of his surroundings, he wasn't laying down at all, he was sitting.

There was a sudden shout of pain that his mind immediately linked to Carlton.

Something was hurting Carlton.

Shawn forced his eyes open with a groan. He had to know what was going on, had to know if he could help. As his vision cleared, he saw two men standing around Carlton who was also bound to a chair with burns spotting his face.

'_The hunters, James and Todd,_' Shawn remembered as the scene of what happened before he was knocked out played out in his head.

"Carlton," Shawn called out, his voice not sounding as strong as he had hoped. All three men stopped whatever they had been doing and looked at him. "You okay?"

"I'm fine," Carlton said, looking relieved to see Shawn awake. "How about you?"

"Been better," Shawn said.

"Hate to break up the love-fest, but now that you're awake, we can get this show on the road," James said, pulling out a piece of paper. Shawn believed him to be the leader of the group since he was always the one giving out orders.

"Wait, what are you gonna do?" Shawn asked, his mind still not quite processing what was going on.

James and Todd thought they were dangerous, as dangerous as full-blown demons, so they were going to, what? Exercise them? Vanquish them? That couldn't work, they were human, or at least half human. Could something like that work on Carlton?

"We're going to exercise your friend here," Todd said simply.

"I'm only half demon, you moron," Carlton snapped. "You had to use some sort of holy water Molotov cocktail just to irritate me. I don't think a simple exorcism will have any effect especially since _I'm not possessing anyone!_"

"It may not affect your human half, but it'll take care of your demon half just fine," James said. "Once that's gone, finishing you off will be easy."

"But we haven't _done_ anything!" Shawn said, frustrated.

"You will, eventually, it's only a matter of time," James said while Todd fidgeted in place, looking a little bit _too_ eager to start the exorcism.

"That's ridiculous. A cop can't arrest someone for something they _might_ do in the future," Shawn said.

"If you were _real_ hunters, you'd understand," Todd said. "You'd accept this and be grateful to be preventing future deaths."

"If being a 'real' hunter means being like you two, I'd rather be a demon," Carlton snarled.

"Enough talk," James snapped. Holding up the paper, he began to read, "Adjuro te, serpens antique, per judicem vivorum et mortuorum, per factorem tuum..."

The effect was subtle at first as Latin flowed from the hunter's lips. Carlton's hands curled into fists and his eyes shut tight in pain. He struggled to hold back the shivers that raced through his body and he grit his teeth against the cry of pain that threatened to escape his mouth.

"No, stop!" Shawn shouted, watching in horror as Carlton's pain seemed to grow the further into the exorcism the hunter got. Todd growled at him to shut up, but as smoke slowly began to rise from Carlton's body, Shawn couldn't take it anymore and, pulling against his restraints with all his might, he shouted, "Stop! Stop it! Let him go! We haven't done anything! _Stop!_"

He was silenced with a punch across the face. He kept his head down after that, unable to watch anymore, and stubbornly fought back the tears that rose to the surface. It wouldn't have mattered to these hunters if they were humanitarian of the year. All they cared about was destroying the supernatural, whether it was good or bad. Shawn wondered how many other creatures of the night there were out there that had been hunted and killed because of what they were, not who they were.

Shawn wished he could stop them, wished he could do anything besides just sit there and let it all happen.

"Imperat tibi majestas Christi imperat tibi Deus Pater, imperat tibi Deus Filius..."

Unable to stand it any longer, Carlton screamed out in pain. Shawn's gaze snapped up to the detective, watching as he struggled against the restraints, smoke continuing to rise from his body.

Shawn wanted to destroy these hunters, these _animals,_ and a small part of him was surprised by this thought, but the rest of him was too angry to care. He wanted to cut them down in their path, make sure they never lived to see another day, and he felt that he would do _anything_ for this to happen. Shawn pulled at his restraints again, not caring that the rope rubbed his wrists raw, not caring about how hopeless the situation was, all he cared about was breaking free so that he could wring the hunter's necks or just _do something._

He would do anything, _anything_, to let it be their blood that flowed instead of his. He wanted them eliminated, dead, _killed,_ and _he_ wanted to be the one to do it.

Carlton's screaming was suddenly muted in his ears as all of the universe's energy seemed to lean in around Shawn, as if listening to his pleas, before saying three words, "_Are you sure?_" and yes, he was _very_ sure, this is what he wanted.

Suddenly it felt as if a switch had been flipped in his mind and time seemed to come to a slow as Shawn took in what the world around him truly was for the first time. There was energy everywhere responsible for everything and when Shawn closed his eyes, he could make out what energy was what. He could clearly sense Carlton, an energy he was already well familiar with, and the different energies inside that made up his demon half, his human half and his powers. Hovering all around him was the energy of the exorcism that dimmed the strength of Carlton's demon half. Then there were the two hunters, a bland energy that he didn't care about at all.

Finally, there was the energy that made up Shawn's own being. He sensed what could only be his power focused around the wounds on his chest and head, and suddenly he felt ridiculous for all the restraints he hadn't been able to get by in the past. With a simple thought, as easy as lifting a finger, he could wrap his power around his wounds and move it anywhere in his body. It didn't stop there though, he could move the inflicted cuts anywhere into anybody, any_thing_, regardless of species or clothing, and why did he have to lose it once he used it? As long as he kept hold of the wound, he could wield it like a knife.

While it may have seemed like it took a few minutes for Shawn's mind to process this, all of these realizations happened within milliseconds. The psychic's eyes snapped open and flashed a bright yellow as he took the deep slash wounds from his chest and forced them down into the rope binding his hands and feet. The rope fell to the ground in shreds and the yellow glow faded from his eyes, leaving behind a permanent golden ring that circled the outside of each iris.

Wasting no time, he sprung to his feet and slammed one hand against James' back while wrapping his remaining hand around Todd's arm. A slash tore through James' throat, spurting blood everywhere and silencing his exorcism immediately. The man collapsed to the ground, choking to death on his own blood. As for Todd, several slashes tore across his face, blinding him but not killing him. Not yet.

As the two men struggled with death and pain on the ground, Shawn bypassed them and came to stand outside the devil's trap. Toeing the outside of the trap, he sent a slash down through his leg to cut into the floor where it had been drawn, breaking its effect. Kneeling before Carlton who looked drained and half dead, Shawn closed his eyes and ran his hands comfortingly over the detective's body. He searched Carlton's energy for any flaws, the exhaustion, the pain, the discomfort, and sent his power out to absorb it all.

Being connected in such a way where he was actually aware of their energy intermingling together was more intimate than anything they had ever done in the past. Shawn found himself wrapping his arms around the detective, getting as much physical contact as he could in their current position. Sending part of his power out to cut through Carlton's own restraints, the rest of Shawn's power continued to linger in the detective's energy, enjoying the connection for as long as possible.

Carlton's arms rose up and wrapped around Shawn in return. He still felt a little out of it to know what was going on, but he recognized the psychic and the comfort his embrace brought.

Sighing, Shawn knew they couldn't stay like this forever and began to pull his power back into him along with Carlton's injuries, but as he did, his power trailed over one of Carlton's powers and an invitingly pleasant chill washed over him like a wave, eroding away at his logic and sanity. Eyes snapping open, Shawn's breath hitched in his throat and he froze. Tentatively, he reached out with his power and passed it through Carlton's again. That same feeling consumed him once more, adding with it a craving need.

Sensing the sudden change in his boyfriend, Carlton pulled away from their hug to see what was wrong. He only had a second to take in the glimmering golden rings around Shawn's eyes before the psychic pulled him forward into a furious kiss that felt different from any other they had shared in the past. Although there was passion in it, it wasn't about love, but a greedy desperate need. The kiss intensified and Carlton could feel all of his injuries leave him, but he felt something else go with it, leaving a draining emptiness in its wake.

When Shawn pulled away from the kiss and stood up, Carlton felt as if there was something different with himself. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, just that he felt as if something was... missing.

A pained moan broke him out of his thoughts and Carlton looked over to see Shawn kneeling before the blinded hunter, pressing one hand against the man's chest. The detective watched on in silence as Shawn forced all of their injuries, both before and after the hunters' attack, into the man's body. He died moments after Shawn pulled his hand away.

Getting to his feet, as he looked between the two dead hunters before turning his gaze on Shawn who was wiping his hand off on his pants as if he just touched something vile, Carlton struggled to find words.

"Shawn, your eyes, they're... and before with the kiss..."

He didn't know what to say. After all, the hunters were going to kill them. Shawn had somehow saved him and yet he couldn't find it in himself to be grateful because something about the situation felt wrong. Shawn's eyes, the odd kiss, his lack of emotion over the two men's death along with how he managed to use his power despite clothing as a barrier. It just didn't add up.

"I get it now," Shawn said in realization.

Carlton's attention snapped back over to the psychic.

"This whole time I thought... but he was right," Shawn said. "It isn't about healing or hurting at all, it's about power."

"What are you talking about?" Carlton asked.

"Don't you get it?" Shawn asked with a frantic smile. "Giving and receiving injuries was just a side effect. It's really all about power, _other people's_ powers. I can take them Carlton, probably as many as I want. _That's_ what my true ability is."

"Shawn," Carlton said softly with a small frown. "This whole thing has been overwhelming. Why don't you lie down in the bedroom while I take care of all this?"

"No," Shawn said, running a hand through his hair. "How could I possibly sleep knowing all that I do?"

He could still sense all of the energy around him including that of the new power he now held within his being.

"Shawn-"

"Carlton," Shawn interrupted him. "There's so much more out there for us. _Together_ we could _do_ so much more, do anything that we want. What's holding us back? Nothing. Nothing can stop us. The world is our oyster. Let's leave Santa Barbara and pursue a higher existence!"

"We can't just leave," Carlton said, resting both hands on the psychic's shoulders, trying to make him see reason. "We have jobs and responsibilities. For a minute just stop and think about what you're saying."

Hurt and rejection shone through in the psychic's oddly colored eyes, but that was quickly replaced by anger. Growling, Shawn knocked the detective's hands away and took a few steps back. "No, I can't... I won't stop. I'm not going to tie myself down like that. If you won't go with me, then _stay out of my way_. There's a world of power out there and I need to try it all."

"Would you listen to yourself?" Carlton snapped. "You're talking like... like a demon!"

Glaring down at the two dead bodies by his feet, Shawn said, "I'd rather be a demon than a hunter."

He flamed out before Carlton could say another word.

He _flamed_ out.

"He wouldn't..."

Yet as much as he tried, Carlton couldn't get his fire teleportation power to work.

Shawn was gone and he had taken one of Carlton's powers with him.

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_(enter dramatic music and end credits here) So that's it for chapter seven. Shawn's slipped down a dark path and Carlton has two dead bodies to deal with on top of all that.(wonders what it is with me and making Shawn evil/crazy)__ The exorcism is not mine, I got it from The Supernatural Book of Monsters, Spirits, Demons, and Ghouls.__ Hope you guys are enjoying this so far!_

_Review please! _


	8. Chapter 8

Of Demons and Fake Psychics

Disclaimer: I don't own any of it. I'm just borrowing certain aspects of Supernatural and Charmed to blend together with Psych.

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**Chapter Eight**

With a crackle of flames, Shawn appeared just outside the PoD Pub. It was the only demon bar he knew of and, being new to the dark side of the supernatural world, he figured it was the best place to get some information.

'_If Carlton wasn't so stubborn and closed-minded about the whole thing, I could have just asked him_,' he thought bitterly, but pushed the thought aside. Going into demon territory, he needed to stay focused and keep his guard up.

Steeling himself, Shawn entered the pub. He had already been able to feel the slight tingling of demonic power through the building's walls, but as soon as he pushed open the doors and stepped inside, his senses were overwhelmed by the strength of the energy and the amount of power residing in the pub. For a moment, his mind went blank as primal urges clawed at the surface, howling to be let loose and claim the power as its own.

Shawn shut his eyes tight and pushed the feeling back. No, he had to concentrate, he was here for information first. Opening his eyes, he noticed a few disinterested glances were cast in his direction and he wondered for a moment if anyone even remembered him from his last visit.

'_They don't seem to care either way,_' he noted before making his way over to the bar. He bumped into a few demons on the way, catching detailed glimpses of their powers, but forced himself to keep moving. They were low-level demons anyway, nothing worth starting a bar fight over.

Taking a seat at the bar, Shawn smiled at the goat-like bartender and said, "I was wondering if you could answer a few questions I have."

The goat-bartender grunted at him, "If it's not about drinks, I ain't talking."

"Don't be such a grumpy Billy goat," Shawn said, crossing his arms with a frown. "All I want to know is if you can recommend any other popular hangouts like this. I want to expand my horizons, network a little bit, you know?"

"Go to Hell," the bartender growled.

"There's no need to be rude," Shawn said.

"No, he really means go to Hell," a demoness sitting next to him spoke up. "If you want to find a place like this, Hell's where you should look."

Turning his attention on the demoness who was clearly a better conversationalist than the bartender, Shawn asked, "Are there any places above ground?"

"I may know of a few spots," she said vaguely with a playful smile.

Before Shawn could ask any further on the subject, a large hand clamped down on his shoulder -- a hand on his shoulder, connecting their energy, new power just a breath away -- and spun him around on the stool. Looking up to see who interrupted him, Shawn recognized the snakeman who had harassed him the last time he had visited the pub.

"Well, well, look who's back, and without his handler here to protect him," the snakeman said, obviously remembering who Shawn was as well. "What do you think you're doing talking to my girlfriend, human scum?"

Shawn could have easily come up with a witty answer to the reptile's question and he could have just as easily talked his way out of the situation, but that was how the old Shawn handled things. Before, he always had to rely on quick wit, now though...

Looking from the hand on his shoulder up to the snakeman the hand belonged to, Shawn grinned.

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Thankful that he still had his shimmering power, Carlton brought the two dead hunters to a discrete location and easily cremated their bodies with his fire power. He would have to clean up the blood spatter on the carpet later because right now he needed to find Shawn before the trail went cold.

Shawn clearly wanted to get more power and it only took a moment of thought before logic told him that the only place Shawn knew of where there was power for the taking was the PoD Pub. With the hunters' bodies reduced to ashes, Carlton didn't waste a second longer and shimmered into the pub.

His spirits dropped as he took in the scene before him. He was too late, Shawn had already come and gone. All around him, demons and creatures of the night lay prone on the ground, groaning or otherwise silent.

"Carl..." a voice called out weakly from across the room.

Looking in the direction of the voice, Carlton quickly spotted Lenore curled up on the ground. Rather than weave his way around the barely conscious bodies, Carlton shimmered over to her and knelt by her side.

"Lenore, are you okay?" he asked, helping her sit up.

Groaning, she looked up at him and said quietly, "That.. that human with your scent was here, but he was... different." she groaned again, holding a hand to her forehead. "I feel so weak... My senses are dulled... and all he did was touch me."

Shawn must have taken her physical strengths.

"Did he say anything before? Do you have any idea where he may have gone?" Carlton asked.

"Um, he had been talking to some demons at the bar about other places like this," she said.

"Bars?"

"Demon hangouts," Lenore said. "He got the names of the top five most popular hangouts out of a few demons before he left."

"So aside from here, that would be Hell's Corridor, Sin Cafe," he paused, trying to think any other places he knew of.

"The Coliseum," Lenore added helpfully. "The other two places I don't recognize, but a DMV near someplace called 'The Broken Gates' was mentioned along with a place called 'Remains Playground.' Some of those places are in Hell though and very few are able travel between here and there."

Somehow Carlton knew that Shawn would find a way.

"Carl, what's going on?" she asked quietly.

"I have to go. Do you want a lift home?" he asked evasively. How could he explain it to her, to anyone, when he couldn't even wrap his mind around the situation himself?

Annoyed that her question was brushed off, she declined his offer and left the pub at around the same time he did. Carlton, shimmered home and began working on the mindless task of ripping up his carpet so that he could burn it at another discrete location. He'd take care of hiring a company to put in a new carpet later on.

Although he had a general idea as to where Shawn might be going, he knew that it would take all of his ability as a hunter and a detective to even have a chance at finding the other man. Added to that was the fact that he still had to keep up an appearance at work.

It's times like this when he wished he had more backup as a hunter.

.

* * *

.

After leaving the PoD Pub in an enthusiastic burst of flames and coming down from his power high, Shawn had reprimanded himself over his temporary loss of control. He'd have to be more careful at the next place he went, if he could ever actually _find_ any of the places the demons told him about. If he kept going crazy like that at every demon hangout he came across, the power tap would run dry because nobody would come back.

So a little more self-control had been added to his list of goals right along with finding those five places and getting more power. In the meantime while he was gathering information and searching for the five places, he needed to find a temporary source of power and finding other people like him was his best bet.

Shawn had gone back to Cold Oak, South Dakota, but as he suspected, there was nobody there. Judging from the last message Azazel left him, all of the other gifted people had been picked off, or at least everyone from his and Sam's generation. There was still a chance that there was another generation out there, and if there was, Shawn was going to find them.

For weeks he searched, quite unsuccessfully, for any sign of there even being another generation. He came across a few spirits and demons to leech off of along the way, but they were fairly low-level and really didn't do much for him power-wise.

It was on a completely random night when he was wandering the alleys of a city when he finally got a lead. At the time, he hadn't been doing any harm to anybody; just strolling through the city, enjoying the nightlife and mentally cataloging all of the powers he had gained so far. About half-way through his cataloging, Shawn realized that someone was following him. He hadn't seen the person at all, just sensed their energy trailing after him at a safe distance. It wasn't Carlton, that much he knew, and he was curious as to who else could possibly be following him.

Making a quick right into a nearby alleyway, Shawn led his stalker away from the public eye. Whoever was following him must have realized something was up because their walk turned into a run. They probably thought he was trying to escape.

'_Boy, are they going to be in for a big surprise,_' Shawn thought with a grin, stopping to hide behind a dumpster.

He waited until the running footsteps were close enough before flaming directly into his stalker's path. It was a scruffy-looking black man; completely human, not a single hint of power on him. Shawn frowned in disappointment at that, but decided he should deal with the matter at hand before he got caught up sulking.

Grabbing the man by his jacket collar, Shawn slammed him up against the alley wall and growled, "Why are you following me?"

In response to that, the man had a gun pressed up against Shawn's stomach and spat furiously, "Oh, I don't know, maybe because you killed two of my buddies."

'_Killed? Who have I killed?_' Shawn thought with a frown. '_I don't think I've killed any of the demons I stole powers from. I can't be sure though, I don't remember too much from the PoD Pub incident._'

It took a moment, but the fading memory of the two hunters struggled to the surface of his mind and Shawn blinked in realization.

"Wait a minute, you mean those two hunters?" Shawn asked with a small laugh. "Let me guess, you're a hunter too? Here to _cleanse the world of demon scum?_"

Shawn laughed again, and before the man could get a word in edgewise, Shawn flamed himself and the hunter halfway across the country into the middle of an abandoned field. Pushing the hunter to the ground, Shawn said with a chuckle, "Do me a favor. Say: I'm here to chew bubble gum and vanquish ass, and I'm all out of bubble gum."

"You laugh now, we'll see who's laughing in a second," the man snarled, looking just a tad bit disoriented from Shawn's fiery teleportation trip.

"I must admit, I'm impressed," Shawn said, circling the man who scrambled unsteadily to his feet. "You tracked me down like a bloodhound. What's your name, Fido?"

"Gordon," the man snapped before raising his gun and firing.

Shawn flamed out effortlessly then flamed back in behind Gordon a second later.

"Flaming combined with a vampire's agility, you're going to have to be quicker than that," Shawn said with a cocky grin.

Gordon spun around and fired again, but Shawn dodged the bullet just as easily as he dodged the first one.

Flaming back in on the scene, Shawn asked, "Is this seriously all you've got? Cause if so, I'm just gonna leave."

"Then I'll hunt you down again," Gordon said. "And I'll keep hunting you down until I take care of you the same way I took care of all the others."

_That_ got Shawn's attention.

"Hold the phone, Gordo, my man. 'Others'? As in: more people like me with powers?" Shawn asked, then bounced in place like an excitable child. "Oooh, tell me I'm not the last one!"

"Like I'm gonna tell you anything!" Gordon snarled, firing his gun a third time.

When Shawn flamed back in after dodging the bullet, he opened his mouth and screamed at the hunter, a power courtesy of a banshee. The echoing shriek was so powerful, it knocked the hunter off his feet and left him too dizzy to get back up again. Racing forward, Shawn pounced on the man, pinning his arms to his side.

Making sure he had eye-contact with the hunter, Shawn said, "You _will_ tell me where these other gifted people are. The ones that are still alive."

He had picked up a hypnotic power from the snakeman at the PoD Pub. Although it wasn't as powerful or as good as Andy's power, it still got the job done. As long as he kept up a fair amount of eye contact with the person he was hypnotizing, he could get them to do whatever he wanted.

Unable to resist what Shawn liked to call the 'snake stare,' Gordon told Shawn all that he knew on the location of other gifted people. As Shawn suspected, there was another generation that had yet to come into their powers. There was also a few left from Sam's generation that lucked out and had never been taken to Cold Oak, South Dakota. Memorizing all of the locations Gordon knew of, Shawn released the man from his hypnotic stare.

"Tell ya what, Gordon," Shawn said, looking down at the hunter. "I'm gonna let you live because you've been _so_ helpful, but if you come after me again, then you'll see what I can _really_ do."

Flashing one last grin at the hunter, Shawn flamed out of the field, leaving the man to find his own way home.

.

* * *

_That's all for chapter 8. It's shorter than usual, but oh well. For those who didn't know, Gordon is one of those 'only sees in black-and-white' hunters who has hunted Sam in the past. This event probably doesn't coincide with the timeline of Supernatural, but I plead the 'author's artistic license' excuse because this was necessary._

_Review please!_


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